Powdered Sugar
by Canadino
Summary: Truth, like powdered sugar, tastes sweet but goes down cold. If a spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down, we might need a bit more. Complete pairings inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

Background music: ---

**Title: **Powdered Sugar

**Summary**: Truth, like powdered sugar, tastes sweet but goes down cold.

**Pairings**: Antonio/Romano, Francis/Matthew, Ludwig/Feliciano, onesided Gilbert/Romano, Alfred/Arthur

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Shoes squeaked across the paved stone floor, leaving unsightly black streaks against the polished cobblestone. The air tingled with static, with muffled shouts coming from the floor beneath the three teenagers' feet. One of the thieves, a panicked Spaniard whose frantic expression worked his normally carefree face, was trotting down the hallway. A body plummeted out of an adjacent room, a mess of ungainly limbs and shock of white hair. They nearly collided but the albino caught himself in time and the two continued their run down the hallway.

"Where's Francis?"

"He's with the goods. What did you do?"

"Nothing! They came back sooner than I thought. I didn't get the crack the safe yet!" The albino, an itchy fingered pickpocket named Gilbert Beilschmidt, grumbled, punching the air halfheartedly. "Did you get anything?"

"I was taking some of the silverware downstairs when the lock clicked and I had to hightail it out of there but they saw me anyway." The Spaniard shrugged, pulling a mess of silver forks, knives, and spoons out of his pocket. "I managed to grab these though."

"Sweet!" The two wrestled into the last room on the right, where a long-haired teen was busily throwing jewelry onto the bed in the room. He jumped at the arrival at the two, although when he recognized them, he breathed again, slapping a hand on his chest.

"Honestly, Gilbert, Antonio, when I heard the people coming back, I was going to abandon the two of you! And you try and give me heart attack when I reconsider? Did you get anything to add to this treasure trove?"

Antonio threw the silverware into the mess of goods the long haired boy had collected in the middle of the bed. "I'm impressed, Francis!" Gilbert whistled, staring at the mess of antiques, designer bags and pillows, jewelry, and rolls of paper Francis found in the rooms. "Although how we're going to get all this out of here is beyond me."

"Easy, darling," Francis chastised, looking slightly put out. "You insult me." He pushed everything they had pilfered in the middle of the bed sheet, everything from precious metal to green pillows with white ruffles to glittering gems combining into a plethora of color. "If we couldn't get away with everything we went to the trouble of getting, my name wouldn't be Francis Bonnefoy! Now, away, children~!"

Wrapping everything up in the bedspread like a dumpling, Francis swung the pack over his shoulder as the voices started to ascend the stairs. No doubt the homeowners had seen the work of the trio and their thieving hands and were coming to retrieve what was rightfully theirs again. Francis beckoned and he ran out to the balcony of the open window, throwing his legs over the edge. Gilbert and Antonio followed, Antonio turning with dancer's ease to close the window behind them. With a graceful leap despite the bag around his shoulders, Francis reached the ground and took off running toward the gate. Gilbert didn't bother with any neatness; he took off running and leapt off the balcony as if he were diving into a pool. Collapsing in a heap, he lay laughing until Antonio landed next to him and pulled him up. Francis was already perched on the wall, shouting at them with the white pack on his back.

"You hooligans!" A voice called for them from the balcony the three had just narrowly escaped from. Francis quickly disappeared over the edge before he could be recognized and the two were already sprinting up the wall, nimbly climbing up the vines like any Robin Hood was expected to know now to do skillfully. "Come back! You won't get away with this!"

"Oh, hush, old man," Gilbert muttered under his breath, a cackle already struggling to escape his throat. Antonio smirked, his hands reaching the top of the wall.

"You three _will_ be caught," a woman's voice called, soft but threatening. As Antonio fell on the other side of the wall, Gilbert whooping as he leapt, he could almost see the woman, a commanding broad with a sneer on her face and a feather boa wrapped menacingly around her neck. Gilbert yelled at him, an incomprehensible sound as he rushed past. The Spaniard jolted back to the present and followed, never looking back on the plundered house.

--

"That was a good haul!" Gilbert, being the best and quickest at counting at bills, had been counting each roll of money with fevered gusto. "I got to hand it to you, Bonnefoy; you know what to grab when you're in hot water."

"These are good too," Antonio defended, holding up his stash of forks. "I can't even read the label on the back." He flashed the exotic words engraved on the handles of the utensils.

"That's so cute!" Francis squealed suddenly, grabbing the spoon out of Antonio's hands. "They've got names on them! 'Feliciano Vargas'…it's not another language, you idiot. It's a name."

They were crowded in Francis's compacted apartment, a small hidey-hole in the city where the blinds were broken and didn't open so the sun struggled through the vinyl cracks. The couch was raggedy from age and there was a general scent of dust and teenager. They were sitting in a triangle, the loot scattered around them. The bed sheet was thrown over the couch in a mess.

"You always have such a good eye, Gilbert!" Francis continued, examining the pillows for defects that could prevent them from selling for a good price. "Your ingrained nose for money always gets us to the best watering holes."

"Of course," Gilbert said proudly, tossing his head as he tied a rubber band around the last stack of bills. "Some of us just have the talent."

Francis chuckled, looking tickled pink. "The sooner we get this stuff out of our hands, then the sooner we can go back to our innocent-no-we-did-not-just-rob-that-house lives. Alright? How much do you think these bags can get us?"

"A couple thousands," Gilbert calculated, poking each bag as Antonio sniffed the mink around his neck and recoiled at the musty stench. "These are silk pillows…my professional fingers can feel it. These should rank up a few hundreds…Antonio's food ware should give us a couple too…should we sell the bed sheet too?"

"I don't know…I'm kind of attached to the thing."

"Where am I?"

At the intrusion of a new, noticeably higher pitched voice, the three jumped, the mink unraveling from Antonio's neck. Francis dropped the bag. A pillow had just stood up and rubbed its eyes; but at closer inspection, it wasn't a pillow after all, but a boy – a boy no more than seven wearing what looked like a green gown and a ruffled white apron.

There was silence, but Gilbert screamed first. "When I said steal," he shouted, backing away from the boy like he was a bomb, "I meant _inanimate_ objects! Who took the kid?!"

"I didn't!" Antonio yelled, backing away and throwing the gloves at the boy, who yelped as they hit him. "Francis, did you see him?"

"I thought he was a pillow!" Francis insisted. "He was lying on the bed with the other pillows!"

"Pillows don't _move_!" Gilbert cried, grabbing the bed sheet. "That's it. We're done for. We've got to kill the kid."

There was a flurry of movement before Gilbert could bring the white sheet over the boy's head as Francis tackled his friend, bringing him to the ground as Antonio grabbed the boy and brought him behind him in protection. "We don't kill little kids!" Francis hissed, struggling with his albino friend to get the sheet out of his hands.

"What can we do?" Gilbert yelled, resisting for the sake of resisting. "That kid was theirs…! You know as well as I do that he's seen our faces!"

"Shh," Antonio said suddenly, bringing a finger to his lips, an unusual calculating look on his face that silenced the two. "You're right. He's seen us. We can't take him back and we can't leave him on the doorstep."

"Where am I?" the boy interrupted, looking rumpled and confused, rubbing his eyes on the verge of crying. There was a childish anger on his face that badly hid the fear of the new place. He was still behind Antonio but backed away when the Spanish teen turned back to him.

"Hi there…what's your name?"

"None of your damn business," the boy mumbled, still looking distraught. Gilbert let out a bark of laughter.

"Alright…" Antonio smiled. "I'll tell you my name. I'm Antonio. Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. Do you know why you're here?"

The boy sniffed, looking ready not to answer but seemed to rethink this. "No. Tell me, you stupid man."

"Well…" He glanced at Francis and Gilbert, who were both staring at him as expectantly as the boy. "The thing is…your family…has died."

Francis's mouth fell open and Gilbert clamped a hand over it just to be safe. The boy frowned, looking slightly upset. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…your house…burned down. We happened to be in the area, me and my friends…and we saved you before you could get hurt."

The boy stared at him, looking small and helpless in the green gown. Antonio thought that on different circumstances, he would wonder why any parent would dress their male son in a dress, but that was a question for another day. "And we can't go back," he added, as the boy opened his mouth to speak. "Because…some bad people were the ones who burned your house down. And the police are looking for them. If the bad people know we told on them, you might get kidnapped and get hurt. So…you can't tell anyone."

Francis started making noises behind Gilbert's hands but the albino kept it tightly over his mouth.

"So…what's your name?" Antonio smiled, feeling slightly put out for telling such wild lies to a child, but it would save their asses for now. The boy seemed to think things over, before replying in a voice so soft that no one could catch it.

"Romano?" Antonio guessed. The boy didn't answer for a moment and nodded.

Francis finally broke free of Gilbert's hand and stood up, looking livid. "Antonio, Gilbert, I have to have a word with you. Right now." He crossed the room to a corner, daring anyone not to come. Gilbert quickly followed him, scampering over; Antonio glanced at them, before excusing himself from Romano, who had forgotten him and started exploring the apartment.

"Antonio, what were you _thinking_?" Francis snarled, bringing the two together for a private meeting. "You're telling outrageous lies to a child! Now there's no hope to bring him back! We should have just quickly covered his eyes and deposited him back where he belongs!"

"We couldn't have done that," Antonio insisted. "He could identify us in a second."

"We could have left!"

"I'm sure we wouldn't just be able to abandon him in front of his house, which _we just robbed_. No matter how we would have disposed of the kid, we wouldn't be able to just get off with nothing! Besides, he doesn't seem to be too much trouble." He paused. "He seems like such a cute kid."

"A cute kid with a mouth," Gilbert reminded. "And I'm with Francis on this one. We're fucking _seventeen_, Antonio. We can't raise a kid. He's barely six or something!" He poked his head out of the circle, prompting the three of them to turn simultaneously to see the kid picking up one of the silver spoons Antonio had stolen. "Um, need I remind you that our awesome resumes include being high school dropouts, you running away from your family, Francis being the misunderstood rich kid, and me being the disowned failure child?! Not to mention our life of exotic _crime_? We can't keep a kid and our living at the same time."

"You're also taking him away from his own family," Francis reminded. "He's not a puppy we picked up off the street. He's a kid."

"We're thieves, not kidnappers!" Gilbert chimed in.

Antonio looked almost desperate. "Come on, guys. Look, the kid has seen everything and he knows what we look like. Okay, he doesn't know what happened, but do we just tell him we're bad guys? You know as well as I do that if we get hauled in, we're in for hell. My folks will drag me back, Francis will be under house-arrest and Gilbert, you've got way too many grand thief autos under your belt and you'll probably be in juvenile prison until you're sixty. It's not worth returning the kid and getting caught, especially if those people he comes from have called the cops and everything. They're probably out looking for us."

"Crap!" Gilbert smacked a hand against his forehead. "Well, you're in for a shitload of work, Antonio. The kid's yours. We gotta get outta here. With a missing kid with our names on it, we better get out of the area. Francis, help me get the chloroform." With a smirk in Antonio's direction, he shrugged. "Just kidding. Maybe."

It was only high noon when everything in the apartment had been torn off the foundations that incriminated the trio. Gilbert was trying to kick all their junk into the backseat of the ratty green blue Suburban they owned. Francis was trying to make sense of a map that might take them far out enough to avoid detection. Antonio (wondering if he had it in him to be a father) was trying to reason with Romano.

"I don't know if I want to go anywhere with you weirdoes," Romano sulked, staying in the doorway of the apartment as Gilbert celebrated closing the trunk. They still had the goods from the house they had robbed; there would be no time to sell them here. "I miss my mommy."

"Come on," Antonio urged, trying not to act like an overbearing parent. "It will be fun, I promise." He watched the boy pout at the door. "We've got to get you other clothes than that dress."

At the mention of the dress, Romano perked up. "I won't have to wear this anymore?"

"Nope. You're not a girl, anyway."

Excitement passed quickly on the boy's face. He was still trying to be difficult for them, it appeared. "Vargas," he said, as Francis got in the car and Gilbert called for them to get in.

"What?"

"Vargas. That's my last name." Romano slipped his tiny hand into Antonio's and pulled him to the car. "Let's go!"

To be continued

--

Note: I apologize. I should not have started a new multi-fic, but this bunny wouldn't leave me alone. I came up with it and it wouldn't let me go until I wrote it. I wonder if I tricked anyone into clicking with the cutesy title. It was a title I wanted to use but never got the fluffy story to go with it. This will not be all fluff, I guarantee you. I feel bad; I know this could never happen and I like all my fics to be in the realm of possibility. But I've never kidnapped or planned one, so I'm using my limited knowledge to make this plausible. So please extend your imaginations on this one! It's a fanfiction after all! (cries) Review, anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

Background music: ---

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Antonio didn't get up as late as everyone thought he did, really, but it was much more fun if Romano woke him up.

"Hey, bastard, get up. You're so fucking lazy."

Not…not fun, maybe, but much more eventful. Antonio cracked open his eyes, seeing Romano hover over him with a scowl on his face. "Good morning, sweetheart," he yawned, reaching up and pulling Romano on top of him.

Romano flushed, the red covering his face. "Don't say stupid things like that!" he snapped, trying to get out of Antonio's embrace. "And let go of me! You just woke up! You're supposed to be weak and all that crap!"

It had been twelve years since they'd picked up Romano.

And Romano had grown up beautifully. His features had lost all of their childish cuteness and evolved into a mature charm. He'd grown tall and lanky, shooting up from staring up to speak to Antonio to shoulder height. He hadn't lost his habit of charging and tackling when he was mad, but Antonio supposed it was part of his cuteness.

He also supposed falling in love with Romano was close to inevitable.

"Good morning kiss?" he suggested, running a hand through Romano's hair.

"…I guess, you bastard." Leaning against the Spaniard's chest, Romano kissed him quickly before leaping up and out of bed. "Now get up, you idiot. The kraut demands breakfast."

Yes, they had moved far in the twelve years, and they had changed scenery more times than usual, and this was now _his_ apartment but Gilbert had insisted on bunking with him both from laziness on the albino's part to find a place and his inability to convince any landlord or lady that he was capable of taking care of a room, much less an entire apartment.

So, in Antonio's flat he stayed.

"Took you long enough to wake up," Gilbert yawned, slouching over the island that also served as a dining table. Romano smacked him across the head as he took the seat farthest from the sleepy albino. Antonio, who had since grown used to chef duties, tied an apron around his waist without complaint.

"Francis isn't here?" Francis, undoubtedly the most mature of the trio, had found his own apartment (a penthouse, the rich son of a bitch), one which Gilbert frequented as well. This didn't stop the infamous lady-killer from crashing at Antonio's – after all, everyone loved the spacey idiot.

"No. He said he had to get up early to get to the studio."

"Huh. I figured since you had to get me to cook for you and you prefer Francis's food to mine."

"Why don't you cook yourself if you're such a picky bastard?" Romano asked, giving Gilbert a snide look over his hands.

"Why don't you just shut up, you noisy brat? You know, if Antonio wouldn't beat my sorry ass, I'd have fucked you up years ago."

"I'm sorry, I'm not interested in apes," Romano retorted coolly.

"Let's not have a war at the breakfast table!" Antonio said cheerfully, slapping coffee in front of the two in effort to silence them. "Romano," he started, changing the subject as Gilbert scalded his mouth on the hot coffee, "did you say you were going to make dinner tonight?"

"Yeah." He glanced over at Gilbert, still fanning his mouth. "The kraut has to leave, though."

"Fine," Gilbert spat, his eyes watering. "I know when I'm not needed. I'll go over to Francis's. He'll have me."

"I have to go shopping though," Romano mused, blowing on the coffee (two creams, one sugar, damn Antonio knew what he liked). "The groceries you buy are less than adequate."

"Oh, so we have an iron chef on our hands," Gilbert mocked, throwing his hands up.

"Fuck you!" Romano chirped with a smile. "I'll grab breakfast on my way out. I've got a lot to do and I can't stand Gilbert anymore." Downing the coffee with the will of a Mafioso, he squeezed by Antonio to the door, pecking him on the cheek and rushing out before anyone could catch his flush. As the door slammed, Gilbert whistled.

"So you're planning on tonight? You sick, sick bastard." Gilbert leaned back and watched Antonio squirm. "Well? Let me see it."

Antonio bit his lip, before relenting and reaching into a back pocket and pulling out a box. Rushing over to Gilbert secretly, as if anyone was watching from the window, he opened it to reveal a modest gold band. "Do you think he'll say yes?" he asked eagerly.

Gilbert scoffed. "Of course he will. He'd kill you if you didn't propose by now." He cocked his head. "I suppose it's all for good. It sort of marks the end of that part of us."

Antonio nodded, tucking the ring box back into his pocket. They had grown up too; no longer did they steal or upset the order of things – he had become a waiter at a local restaurant, Gilbert did odd jobs around but managed to earn a living, Francis had become a lyricist for a composer. This town for sure was big enough to hide them and provide the place where they could finally settle down and breathe a sigh of relief. They had been running for a while and hiding and it was time to start new. "I want to propose after dinner," he announced, finishing the eggs he had been frying. "So…I don't mean to kick you out but…"

"I get it," Gilbert sighed, rolling his eyes. "I definitely don't want to be watching the two of you release your sexual tension. I'll go pay a visit to Francis or something."

"Thanks!" Antonio couldn't help it; he smiled broadly. Things were finally going well, much better than the life he had run from, run into. He was an adult and he had outgrown the childish whims they used to indulge in. They didn't steal anymore, they were respectable citizens, and he and Romano were in love. And on the very day of their fateful meeting, he would seal up the past with the proposal. Fairy tales couldn't have spun it better.

--

For the record, Gilbert was sure he had fallen for Romano the moment the boy's voice cracked when he was fourteen. When the brat's voice switched from high baby to budding maturity, he had been hit with a newsflash. _What the fuck am I doing here_?

He always liked the feisty ones. Even before they dropped out, he had liked to flirt with the homicidal girl Elizavita who sat next to him in homeroom. He supposed it resulted from the kindergarten friendship he struck up with Natalia, that scary blonde girl who clung to her older brother when he left for the elementary school. Anyway, he'd been friends with so many scary people, he supposed it was normal to like scary people.

He wasn't sure if he had a chance. He was twenty-four, Romano was fourteen. That was definite pedophilia, and even though he told his two friends everything that went through his mind, this definitely wasn't going to leave his lips. So he watched the boy, taking his side when he got in fights with Antonio, running for a cold shower if Romano wrestled him for control of the remote.

He'd met others, took dates, had flings, but they all left him for reasons that could possibly have nothing to do with his awesome. Romano was always there, to laugh at him when he came home jilted, to gloat when Gilbert explained the reason that was screamed in his face when the date in question slammed the door in his face. It was him Romano went to when Antonio refused to explain something or Francis refused to teach him. He was the badass the teenage rebel in Romano came to!

Francis would undoubtedly make a big deal, so it was Gilbert who learned first that Romano had developed a crush on Antonio. It was his turn to laugh when Romano pulled him into a corner and whispered about his first wet dream. _I'm sixteen_, Romano had cried, looking utterly terrified, _and he's twenty six and he treats me like a brother. This is a phase, right? I'll grow out of it right? Please tell me I'll grow out of it, Gilbert! This is too goddamn scary for me to handle!_

So Gilbert, who had since become professional in hiding his feelings for Romano, had become the master in teaching Romano how to hide his feelings from Antonio (which was no hard feat, as the Spaniard was quite dense). He learned the subtle hints the boy could send and saw none shooting in his direction and he knew when Antonio came to him one night while drunk and expressed an interest in Romano that he was utterly screwed.

"He'd kill you if you didn't propose by now." Because it was what he had to say, because Antonio was his best friend and Romano was his fellow badass and he was not going to be a third body, if he wasn't wanted. Now the ring was something material, it was real and as Gilbert descended the stairs (the damn elevator in Antonio's building was _always_ broken!), he couldn't shake the fact he wanted this so damn bad and he wasn't going to get it.

--

Francis was early, because fashionably late wasn't really fashionable. He checked his watch, tapping a slight tune as he waited in the doorway of the studio. No rush. He had smirked at the women who had walked past and checked him out in his cream slacks and gray Fedora. But of course, anyone in the music industry had to look good.

"You look like a million bucks, as usual," the receptionist had told him as she unlocked the building. "You sure you don't want to wait inside?"

"No, thank you. I'll be fine outside, and it's a nice day anyway."

"I'm _so_ sorry! My econ class went too long and the professor wouldn't let us out!" A bike was racing toward him, carrying a messy blonde with a half-zipped bookbag on one shoulder and one hand on the handlebars of the red racing bike. The college student's glasses nearly skittered off his face as he stopped the bike abruptly and was nearly flung forward if Francis hadn't reached out to steady him.

"I only got here a few minutes ago, Matthew. Don't worry about it. You'll kill yourself if you rush through traffic like that."

Matthew laughed, pressing the glasses up his nose again. "You shouldn't like how I drive then!" Locking the bike on the rack outside, he checked his bag. "Whew! My research paper's still here. Oh! I didn't bring my notebook! I knew I forgot something! I'll go get it, it's at my place a few blocks down, so it won't take too long…"

"Whoa, whoa, Matthew!" Francis grasped the fretting boy's shoulders and turned him to face him. "Matthew Williams. You're not listening to yourself. You're a singer. Your anxiety will mess up your vocals."

"Right, right, right…but it's my fault. I was trying to get out of class and I woke up late this morning and I had to run to see you…" As the words left his lips, the boy flushed, his fingers fluttering up to his mouth as if he could grab the words back from the air and back.

Francis grinned, slinging an easy arm across Matthew's shoulders. "Now that's not a lie, is it? Never worry, darling! I wrote you a song last night. You've got a record deal on the line, remember? The sooner you crank out the songs, the faster you can get your pretty face on all the magazines, eh?" He nudged Matthew gently. "Give me a smile, sweetheart."

A small curve graced Matthew's mouth as they walked through the reception area to one of the recording studio's rooms. "Nice," Francis said, his voice dropping a few octaves. "Now how about a kiss?"

"I don't know, Francis," Matthew murmured, reaching for the keys for their recording room. "It might not do my vocals too good."

"You can either worry or you can kiss. I hope you'll pick the million dollar choice, Matthew."

The lock clicked, and Matthew turned to Francis. "Oh, that's actually kind of hard," he mused. "Worrying is my way of stress relief!" But he smiled as he reached over and grasped Francis's collar, pulling him into the room. The lyricist tried not to look satisfied with himself but shot the receptionist watching him a smirk as he closed the door behind him.

--

Of course he knew. Romano had known for a while, from the very day Antonio went and bought the ring. It was just about _when_ that bastard would finally pop the question, and how surprised he should act.

He would be playing into the stereotype of giggly girl if he went over the top, Romano decided, stepping onto the street and making his way down the sidewalk to the outdoor market. Produce always tasted better out in the open air. He was certain Antonio would prefer for him to get teary and pleasantly astonished, but he didn't think he could pull it off without puking.

But if he didn't act shocked and just said yes, he didn't think Antonio would be happy either. The bastard was hard to please, really. The idiot would sulk and be upset that the surprise was ruined. But Romano felt as if he was insulting himself for pretending he didn't know, when it was so obvious, especially when Antonio had almost had an aneurism when Romano poked about his room.

He wasn't very sure what to do.

He didn't think very many people in his position would take things in stride like he did. Not only had he been whisked away after his parents and baby twin brother died, but he had been cared for by three less-than-parental friends, and learned from them, as they were somehow adamant about him not going to actual school. He had his own collection of homes and cities and tutors and home school teachers, but he had finally finished what anyone else would have called a high school education. Now Antonio was insisting on getting married, Romano could see his makeshift school was over and he had graduated.

Still…he shouldn't complain, really, but it was in his blood…he reached the outskirts of the market, surrounded by satisfied housewives and their produce, and wondered if they would let him go to college.

So he didn't mind learning! That didn't make him a freak! Just because the trio had dropped out of high school didn't mean he should stop at that! Romano pondered the thought, musing if he should bring it up after he accepted Antonio's proposal. Surely the idiot would be too happy to say no?

The tomatoes were looking nice in the sun. Actually, everything was. He always had the eye for groceries; Gilbert was too intent on making a fuss, Francis usually headed for the wine aisle, and Antonio was always distracted on other things than to make the best choices. Really, he should go shopping more often. It was only recently Antonio was okay with him leaving the house alone. The three used to be so protective, always making sure one of them followed him whenever he went anywhere. He wasn't going to run away.

As Romano picked up a banana squash, he was hit with the realization again. _He was going to get married_.

"Are you okay?" the vendor asked as Romano felt the blood rush to his face. He was going to get married, to the bastard he'd fallen for when he was young and stupid; hell, maybe he was still young and stupid. Damn his ingrained romanticism! He'd have to cook everything better tonight, to make it a proper proposal dinner. He was getting married!

Just thinking about it made him flail a bit (so he sometimes got overexcited. Sue him) and he accidentally smacked someone behind him in the face. "I'm sorry!" he apologized quickly, the mean streak in him gone if he wasn't dealing with the bad friends trio. The person he had hit was whimpering, clutching his cheek so his hands were hiding his face. It couldn't have been that bad of a bruise, could it? "Are you okay? It was my fault." _Although maybe you shouldn't have been standing right behind me, really_.

"No! I'm okay! It was also my fault. I was trying to look for someone." The person straightened up, leveling off at Romano's height, and he shook his head as he took his hands off his face.

Romano found himself staring at a mirror image of himself, a mirror image whose eyes widened and glomped him, squealing, "You're alive! You're alive! I knew you were alive!"

Romano could hardly compose himself to respond when his twin pulled at him, looking utterly elated. "Come on! You've got to come home with me to see _mammina_ and _papà!_ They've been worried sick about you!"

To be continued

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Note: SpeakingThroughWrittenWords, you are influencing me too much. I feel like a back-story is in order. Francis was lurking around a café, where Matthew happened to be writing lyrics to music he had composed and Francis happened to help him with a particularly troublesome spot. So now, he is Matthew's lyricist. I blame Gravitation, which I have recently started reading. Ugh, STWW, you seriously are too awesome for me to comprehend. I sort of want to write their back stories now. Stop me, someone! Just throw knives at me!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

Background music: ---

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It was his brother. His little, baby twin brother. Realization and astonishment were skinny dipping together in his brain, making the flying colors of the vendor stalls around them even more confusing. His brother (ah, right, his name was Feliciano) was pulling him along until he was sure he lost his way and suddenly they broke through the marketplace, rushing toward a long, black stretch limo waiting for someone on the curb.

"Ludwig! There you are!" For a moment, Feliciano let go of his wrist (which Romano was horrified to discover a hand print on) and rushed at a blonde man, who looked very much like a bodyguard and wanted to have nothing to do with the glomping affections his twin was lavishing on him. The existence of his brother kept him from running off.

Ludwig, the man-who-looked-like-a-bodyguard cleared his throat and looked at Romano despite Feliciano hanging off him. "Excuse me, Mr. Vargas," he said, carefully extracting Feliciano off him. "May I ask who this is?"

Feliciano turned, before launching over and returning his vice grip on Romano as if his older brother was a dog that was about to run away. "I'm sorry! This is Lovino Vargas, my twin brother! I found him while shopping. Lovino, this is my bodyguard Ludwig Weillschmidt."

Ah, so he was a bodyguard. Somehow, something about the guy disagreed with him and Romano scowled at him.

Ludwig didn't look fazed. "If it's not a tender subject," he said, his eyes switching from Romano to Feliciano, "I was told your brother was dead."

"Yeah, a lot of people said he was! But I knew he wasn't. Because twins have that sort of thing. They know." Feliciano smiled, linking an arm through Romano's as if they had known each other forever. "So now I've got to go home and show everyone!"

"Wait," Romano snapped, pulling his arm out of Feliciano's grip and backing away slightly. "I can't go with you. I've got people to go home to." _I'm getting married, well, proposed to today! _"Maybe some other day…?"

"Oh, please! It won't take a long time, I promise! I just want to show mom and dad you're okay! They've been worried about you too! And I'm sure if you explain it to them, they'll let you go and take your friends and we can all live together! The house is big enough! Please! Ludwig, tell him he should come!"

Ludwig cleared his throat, looking formidable in all black. "If you are indeed Lovino Vargas, it is in your best interest to come," he said, reiterating Feliciano in a more formal tone.

"What the hell? And my name is Romano, not whatever you're calling me." He crossed his arms, a bit disgruntled that he was behind schedule now. Perhaps he _was_ facing his little brother and his shit of a bodyguard, but it didn't mean he had to drop everything and follow them. _Married_! "And for your information, I was told that _you_ died when the house burned down."

Feliciano's eyes widened. "_Who_ died?"

"You, and our parents. Some crazy arsonists destroyed the place."

Feliciano shook his head fervently. "That's not what happened! I mean, I'm not dead, right?" He looked at Ludwig desperately. "Well, this is hardly the place to discuss these things, right? Let's go home and we can get it all sorted out!" Before Romano could protest more, Feliciano grabbed him and threw him in the car, giggling as he slid in next to him. "Come on, Ludwig! Drive!"

Romano had never been in such a car. He was used to the Suburban, which was already starting to breath its last breaths. The sleek leather felt slippery underneath and he hadn't even reached for the seat belt when the car rolled forward.

"So!" Feliciano was grinning like a maniac, the seat belt somehow strapped around him as Romano groped around for his. "Are you hungry? We've got food! How have you been? Wow, you look just like me! I mean, I knew we were twins, but wow!" Romano had just managed to click in the buckle when his baby brother grabbed his face and jerked it up toward him, almost giving him whiplash. "There's a slight difference…I guess." Feliciano let go and started patting him down. "You weren't abused, were you?"

"Why would I be _abused_?" Romano snapped, sliding away from his touchy twin.

"It's a usual guess for your situation," Feliciano insisted innocently. "A lot of people end up _dead_, you know. That's why everyone thought you might be. Why didn't you try and find us?"

"I thought you were _dead_!" Romano shouted. "Where are we going? I have to be getting back. Today's really important to me!" He stared out the window, trying to find a familiar landmark but they had since driven out of the town and were now passing the outskirts and its limited housing units. They were now entering a rolling countryside.

"Of course it is!" Feliciano cried, throwing himself on his brother. "It's the day you were kidnapped!"

--

Antonio was not much of a worrier. Really, he wasn't. He liked to take things in stride and whatever happened, happened.

All bets were off when it came to Romano, and Romano was still out, although the boy liked starting dinner around two to get everything done by seven. It was already four o' clock. They had not gotten cell phones or any sort of device that could be tracked as, after all, they still were criminals in the kidnapping and theft sense. Twelve years didn't clear them of all charges.

The keyhole suddenly clicked and Antonio leapt up, a surge of relief coursing through him, although when the door opened, in came Francis, followed by Gilbert.

"My dear Antonio!" Francis cried, flinging his arms around the startled Spaniard. "Why was I not informed that today was to be your engagement day? I knew you had gotten the rings but I was not told the date…!"

"I tried," Gilbert defended, shrugging as Antonio looked at him. "I told him I couldn't stay at your place and he persisted until I told him why."

"I am so sad that my best friend's bachelor days are coming to an end! And here I thought if someone were to get married, it would be me…! I am your best man, I presume?" Francis shook his head, smiling despite Gilbert's protests behind him. "But where is the blushing bride?"

Antonio's frantic look returned. "That's what I was going to say! Romano went out to buy groceries for dinner and he hasn't come back! He's been gone for five hours already!"

"That's hardly unusual," Prussia commented, stepping forward to try and nudge Francis out of the way. "He always takes forever to get anything done."

"Yes, but this time, I'm worried. I want to know he's at least coming back."

"It is unusual he is gone this late," Francis mused, checking his watch. "After all, we ingrained a three o' clock curfew in the boy since he was ten. And I wouldn't imagine why he wouldn't be staying here since this place is like his womb."

"I'm going to go out and look for him."

"Should we call the police?" Gilbert suggested.

"Right," Francis said, turning to him with mock superiority. "Right, Gilbert. We're going to call the police to find a kid we kidnapped years ago. Oh! Today was the day, wasn't it?" He turned to Antonio with pleasant surprise. "You were planning to propose on his kidnap day? Sly devil, Antonio."

"There isn't going to _be _a proposition if he doesn't come home," Antonio said, pulling on a jacket. "It's getting dark and we should start looking."

--

In all the years of living in tiny rooms and apartments and occasionally the car when they couldn't find a space in their new towns, Romano had never set foot in a mansion like this. He figured he should have prepared himself when the limo rolled up to an iron gate and the driveway itself was practically a street. He couldn't imagine how anyone could manage such a huge estate, but as Francis told him, "The rich are an incomprehensible race."

The sky was getting dark, but Romano hardly had time to turn and take in the vast amount of yard or see how far they had gone when he was pushed through a set of huge doors into a gigantic foyer with a grand staircase ahead.

"Mom!" Feliciano called, as Ludwig closed the doors behind them. "Dad! I'm home!"

"I thought I told you to call your old man Romulus! You're not a child anymore, Feli~!" Somehow the voice seemed familiar but Romano couldn't quite place it. A man strode into view from the second floor, running a hand through his hair. He hardly looked like a father, still retaining a youthful look with a hint of stubble on his chin. He looked extremely similar to Feliciano, so Romano figured, he must look a lot like…

Romulus stopped at the head of the stairs, staring down in awe at the three gathered in the foyer. Feliciano grinned as he held up Romano's hand like a victorious boxer. "Look who I found, daddy!"

"Ledell! Ledell, honey!" Romulus called to someone somewhere as he tore down the stairs. "Ledell, you want to come see this!"

"Given that you can barely _control_ yourself, it must be good," a woman replied stoutly, sauntering through a door on the ground floor. She stopped herself as Romulus tackled Romano in a very Feliciano-esque way. "Dear gods," she murmured.

"Mom! I found Lovino! He was out at the outdoor market!" Feliciano nodded happily. "See? I told you he was alive!"

The woman, an almost threatening figure with an arrogant brow and erect posture, walked over, as if approaching sacred ground. Romulus had no problems – he was now taking Feliciano and hugging both his sons like they had both been missing.

"Lovino! I can't believe we've finally found you! You look well! Where have you been?"

Ledell, the mother, smacked her husband out of the way; Romulus yelped as he was thrown clear across the foyer. Ludwig winced as the man slid to a stop, whimpering.

_If this is my mother, there's no doubt where I come from._ "Lovino, dear…" Ledell caressed his cheek with an almost tender look when she suddenly backhanded him. "Of all my sons, I am most disappointed in you. It takes you this long to get back to your family, I am utterly ashamed to call you my son. You may as well come back dead if you come back at all!"

"You only have _two_ sons!" Feliciano reminded.

"Bitch!" The word left Romano's mouth and he made no attempt to stop it. Mother or no mother, this is how he was raised. Gilbert had done his job well. "Maybe if you _were_ my mother, you would have tried harder to find me! I don't even know who you are!"

Ledell gathered herself up, making her even taller than before. "You dare to talk to your mother like that?"

"Yeah! I do!" Romano crossed his arms, falling into defense mode as only he knew how. Feliciano was fluttering around like a frantic butterfly, trying to soothe them as Ludwig helped Romulus up a distance away. "I don't know where I am, and I don't give a damn! I've got somewhere to go and someone to go to! Just let me go _home_, dammit!"

There was an eerie silence that followed. Ledell's _look _didn't waver in the slightest, the _look_ being the sole expression that could wilt a seed before it could even sprout. Feliciano's mouth had dropped open and he scurried over to Ludwig, sensing the confrontation that was about to happen. Romulus had settled for looking sheepish.

"Well, I have a newsflash for you, boy. Look around you. You _are_ home."

--

"I am seriously contemplating calling the cops."

"Don't!" Francis shot his hand out and grabbed the corded phone. "We can settle this and find the kid and you can marry him and we can get on with our lives! Don't fuck this up, Antonio."

Antonio sighed, resting his head in his hands. "We talked to the vendors," he summarized, "and they said they saw Romano. Romano was taken away by someone who looked just like him and they last saw him being driven away in a black car. This sounds like a kidnapping."

"Well, we know that well, don't we?" Gilbert said sarcastically, playing with a loose thread on the lazy chair he was sprawled on.

"Look," Francis reasoned, standing defensively in front of the only phone in the house. "The black car they were describing sounded like a car my folks used to own. Granted, mine was a red Ferrari, but it's the same case. Obviously the people who took Romano have money, and rich people don't dirty their hands so easily. He's going to be okay."

"They can't just take him!" Antonio shouted, looking up.

"He didn't put up a fight, according to witnesses," Gilbert added.

"We need to find him. We can't find him ourselves. I just want to find out where he is, and I don't care if I have to look for him at the police station." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring box. "It was supposed to work out," he insisted, closing his hand around the box.

A hush fell, and Francis exchanged a look with Gilbert. Antonio was obviously distraught beyond relief. "Gil," Francis started, giving him a knowing look, "didn't your brother work in some sort of law enforcement thing?"

"Yeah…he _was_ in the coppers business but the last time I talked to him, he said he was some guard for some big shot family. He didn't go into much detail about it."

"Can you contact him?"

"I guess." Gilbert turned to Antonio. "Hey, Tony! Don't be such a downer. I'll give my baby brother a call and he can probably pull a few strings and find the kid. I'm sure working for rich people gives him a chance to hack into a few computers or something. We'll get him and you can get hitched! God!" He threw his hands in the air. "Anyone would think you were desperate to get your single status changed!"

A smile pulled at Antonio's mouth. "When you find someone you want to spend your entire life with, you don't wait."

"Sometimes you wait forever," Gilbert said darkly, without thinking. Francis raised his eyebrows.

"Not to distract from the big subject at hand, but Gilbert, you found a girlfriend?"

"Look, do you want me to call Ludwig or not?" Gilbert snapped, suddenly irritable. "Give me the phone. His is a number I memorized in case I needed someone to bail me out of jail."

To be continued

--

Note: Apparently, this is good. You rock if you can figure which OC ex-nation Ledell represents. I'm very busy lately. For that reason, please excuse slow/no updates. Thanks.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

Background music: --

---

"Ludwig."

"Hmm?"

"Did we really have to lock the door? It makes me feel like we're holding him hostage."

"Well, your brother did show the tendency to run off, and your mother told me to put him in a locked room. It seems she doesn't want to part with her oldest son again so soon."

Feliciano looked thoughtful. "He said he wanted to go back to someone. I don't think we should just keep him here if he has people who worry about him."

Ludwig shrugged. "But your brother has been missing for twelve years, hasn't he? Don't you want to know what he did all that time?"

"Yes!" Feliciano, who had been holding onto his arm like a prom date (his signature cling attack), nodded, nuzzling Ludwig's arm like an affectionate puppy. "I guess we could keep him here for a few days. He is a legal adult, anyway. Oh! Would that make you _his _bodyguard too? He'll like you, I know he will! I like you a lot, so he will too!"

Ludwig thought otherwise, with the look the older Vargas twin kept giving him every time Feliciano hung onto him, but decided against saying anything about it. "What is his actual name?" he asked to change the subject.

"Lovino? It's Lovino, of course!"

"He keeps calling himself Romano."

"It's Lovino. I would know him anywhere. I don't know why he answers to another name, but maybe it's what the kidnappers told him."

"So you believe he was kidnapped?"

"Yes! I saw it too! Mommy and daddy told me to stay in my room, but I also came along when they were yelling at the people who robbed us. There were two of them. They were kids, really. Maybe a little younger than me." Feliciano's voice had taken a nostalgic quality. "I didn't see where Lovino was, since neither of them were carrying anything, but mom…Ledell said there was a third one. They messed up the surveillance, you know. We couldn't identify them. We didn't care about what they stole, but Lovino was gone so we had to find him."

Ludwig listened, as he was conditioned to do.

"I was only seven but I remember everything! They even went on TV. We didn't care who did it, and we really weren't going to press charges, we only wanted Lovino back. He wasn't always very nice to me, but he was my brother, so I wanted him back too. The case went cold when I was nine and everyone said he was probably dead but we never found his body. Dad…Romulus said the kids probably left town but by then we didn't know what direction to look. We never really gave up, and I guess it's good I never stopped looking or I might not have found him today!" Feliciano squeezed Ludwig's arm. "I'm happy he's okay."

Ludwig wondered if it was normal for a bodyguard to get this close to the protected. Feliciano didn't mind the lack of space and he was the one who always latched onto him, but there was a question of professionalism. Romulus had been okay with everything if Feliciano was okay and Ledell didn't show too much interest. Feliciano looked up at him with a smile and suddenly he found himself being pulled down to the boy's level.

_What's going on…!_

"I was looking for you when I found him," Feliciano whispered into Ludwig's ear, oblivious to the way the taller man had flushed at the contact. "So I'm happy you're with me too!" He paused, and suddenly looked a bit shy as he glanced away quickly, his hazelnut eyes staring down the hallway before pulling Ludwig closer and it raced through his mind again, _what's going on…?!_ And…

The both of them jumped at the strange buzzing sound that suddenly started tearing through the air between them and Ludwig straightened up and realized that it was not his hip that had started vibrating, but his cell phone.

"Oh! Oh!" Feliciano had let him go, his face pink. "Ooh, I don't know what came over me! Ah! Your phone! You'd better pick it up!"

He was allowed to have personal devices on, as they might help in any emergency, but Ludwig felt it only appropriate to excuse himself anyway. "I'm sorry, Mr. Vargas, you're right; I should take this. Do you mind if I walk away for a moment?"

"Go ahead! And I'm not 'Mr. Vargas'! That's my dad! I keep saying you should call me Feliciano!" He nodded, turning and heading further down the hall to give Ludwig adequate privacy. The bodyguard waited until he had wandered out of earshot before he checked the caller ID

"Gilbert?" Pressing call, Ludwig brought the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey! Little bro! Did you miss me?"

"Whatever it is, say it quick. I'm on duty." It was unusual for Gilbert to even reach him, or even contact him on a regular basis since his older brother didn't think it was 'awesome' enough to talk to him. It had to be something troublesome, as was necessary for anything involving Gilbert.

"Alright, god. Listen, buddy…I need you to do a favor for me. My friend…he…lost his fiancé. We think he may have been kidnapped. You're in the security business, right? Could you use your powers of authority to find this kid?"

"I'm a bodyguard, Gilbert."

"Yeah, but you've got to hear things, right? All we need you to do is keep an ear out for this person. Can you do that?"

If he said no, Gilbert would throw a fuss until he agreed. "Yes," he said tiredly. "Tell me about the fiancée."

"Not fiancée, fiancé. It's a guy. Okay…it's a skinny brat. Regular height, I guess, for a nineteen-year-old. Brown hair. A weird lock of hair that curls in the front. Angry sort. Italian! Swears. All the time." Ludwig could almost see the satisfied nod as his brother finished.

"Well, can I have a name?"

There was a pause. "I'm not at the liability to say."

This sort of secrecy… "According to your description, you would be describing a kid I picked up this afternoon."

There was another pause. "What?"

"I was out with my client and he knows this missing person."

There was yet another long pause. "Who do you work for? Shh, Antonio, I can't hear! Bro! Why did you just pick the kid up and take him?"

Ludwig sighed, rubbing his temples. Feliciano cocked his head at him a distance away, imploring to know the source of the irritation. "Listen, I don't care. Where do you work? Maybe there was some sort of mess up. We can account for him. Where are you?" Gilbert was never one who got down to the bottom of things.

He wondered if he should share the information, as he had a hunch about the current situation and he was rarely wrong when he had hunches. "You know what? Wait, before you talk, I'll put you on speaker. I'm with two of my friends and one of them can't wait to get married. Waait…" There was a click and Ludwig heard a mingling of two other voices in the background. "So where are you?"

"The boy we picked up answers to Romano, but his real name is Lovino Vargas. From what I'm told, he was kidnapped at a young age and apparently was not held for ransom but was never returned. I work for his family. Since you're so keen in finding out his whereabouts, I can't help but come to the conclusion you have something to do in all of this."

The voices in the background stopped, but when Gilbert started talking again, he sounded disinterested. "So what if I was? Where are you?"

"Gilbert, you basically admitted to child abduction."

"I never said anything. Ask no questions and you get no lies. I've asked you this a million times; where the hell are you?"

Ludwig's face must have betrayed some sort of emotion, he didn't know what (he was feeling a mix of bewilderment, irritation, and a bit of out-of-body experience), but Feliciano was suddenly making his way toward him. He knew as a bodyguard and confident of the Vargas family, he should bring up his suspicion of his brother's innocence in relation to Lovino's kidnapping, but instead he found himself saying, "I'll call you back later. He's alright, so you don't have to worry about it." Gilbert was sputtering a response when he closed the phone and turned back to Feliciano.

"What was that about?"

Ludwig shrugged, maintaining an apathetic expression. "Some family business."

--

Locked. Romano jiggled the doorknob again, hoping that his perseverance might somehow loosen the bolt and set him free. Were the people keeping him here thinking that he might run away? Call Antonio and accept the proposal over the phone, or explore the huge house, maybe; but running away hadn't crossed his mind. He had no idea where he was, didn't know how to drive, and he didn't feel endangered, so he had really no reason to hit the road. He was feeling less of a welcomed son than a criminal that had to wait for the police to come. Giving up on the door, Romano turned back to the room.

"It's a guest room! Make yourself comfy!" Feliciano had said (squealed, really). The room itself was about the size of Antonio's whole apartment, and it included some sort of closet and a room he hoped was a bathroom. Surely his parents weren't sadistic enough to keep him from the facilities.

Romano exhaled, breathing out the entirety of his lungs. This was turning out to be such a long goddamn day. The whole beginning had been filled with the apparent proposal (now he wasn't allowed to make any calls, but it wasn't like he was really looking forward to Antonio proposing anyway…!), and then his brother came back from the dead – his whole family, in fact! He had wandered to the window, trying the latch and finding that it opened but not feeling up to slipping out. Then they had survived the fire…but surely any arson survivor would be covered in scars? The crazy man who was his father was spotless, the creepy woman who was his mother was fine, and his ditzy idiot of a brother looked unblemished.

Not only that, but they kept insisting there had been no fire and kept calling him Lovino. The name sounded familiar, like maybe he had known it or known someone named it once upon a time, but he couldn't really place it being linked back to him. Feliciano had said he had been kidnapped but didn't elaborate. But he wasn't kidnapped. He was saved. Antonio said so, and so did Gilbert and Francis. Granted, he didn't really believe everything Gilbert or Francis said, but if the story was straight from three people, he didn't think it could be wrong.

Maybe this family wasn't his real family. They certainly were too crazy to be. They didn't neglect him or show any reason for him to doubt; Feliciano had cooked him up more food than he could eat and Romulus had insisted his two sons and him spend some quality time together (which he declined), and Ledell in her odd way had seemed motherly enough. But there were good actors in the world and this could be one big con scheme.

What would they get from pulling the wool over his eyes anyway?

But what if they _were_ his real family…?

"Antonio," Romano breathed, comfortable in his solitude enough to show any sort of weakness (Antonio wasn't his weakness, really! He just couldn't get that bastard out of his mind, that was all!). He was too old to believe in fairytales, but for a moment he wished the wind could carry his voice to the bastard's ears and maybe the Spaniard could come and beat up those freaks who called themselves his family. And then after Feliciano and Ledell and Romulus and that blonde bodyguard bastard was reduced to nothing, Antonio would get down on one knee and…

He was getting soft. Romano clapped his hands against his cheeks to bring him back to reality.

The bed was looking horribly inviting and he had nothing to do. Back at Antonio's place, he had _had _a room, but after he and the bastard started a (he wouldn't say it, he wouldn't say _relationship_), he had slept with Antonio (not in that way, perverts! …often). Romano had almost forgotten what it felt like to sleep alone.

The sheets were cold, but they were welcoming and he easily slid into the bed, refusing to admit it felt better than Antonio's springy mattress, but only in the physical aspect. It wasn't the same to be in an unfamiliar house in an unfamiliar bed. Sitting there, Romano found himself at a loss of what to do next. Just lying down and trying to sleep would mean he would be tossing and turning for a good portion of the night.

Reaching around, he found a body pillow behind the neatly arranged smaller head pillows. Holding it up, he found it adequately similar to Antonio's height.

Yes, this would do.

Fluffing it up, he put it beside him, staring at it for a moment. With a strange familiar impulse, he brought a fist down where Antonio's stomach would have been. What had he been expecting; a pillow didn't react. "Bastard," Romano murmured, curling up and pulling up the comforter up to his chin. No one understood why he liked heavy blankets even in warmer weather. They made him feel safe.

It was a damn body pillow and it didn't move and it wasn't warm and it didn't hug him back, but Romano wrapped his arms around it, closing his eyes and trying to remember back to yesterday, when Antonio had kissed his forehead and told him good night, and to sleep because the next day was going to be big.

Romano almost scoffed at that. Did that idiot still think he had the element of surprise?

It had been big, but in a completely different way…he tried to straighten his thoughts but it was getting hazy and he had fallen asleep before he knew it.

--

Note: I was planning on collabing with Plasticframed Paintings for an album fic with Arctic Monkeys. The theme is nightlife. What sort of multi-fic with that would you be interested in reading? Basically I'm groping for a plot. Please help a brother? Review, please.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

Background music: --

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It was morning. Antonio didn't have to open his eyes, but he knew. His body clock told him it was eight in the morning. He had the night shift at the restaurant today, so he had no reason to get up early.

Yesterday had been utter hell. Well, regardless if Romano had been kidnapped and taken to his parents and that his parents even knew he was alive after all and they were sure to get caught in some crossfire because damn, they'd kidnapped the kid and they thought they could get away with it. Regardless of all that, he could have withstood it. The reason why it was all hell and dandy was because he still had the ring.

He was supposed to propose yesterday…!

Antonio groaned, slapping a hand to his forehead. He hadn't felt this bad since he'd gotten a nasty hangover with Gilbert and confessed his feelings for Romano years ago. Since then, he hadn't gotten any drunker in case he said anything else he wasn't comfortable with revealing prematurely without being sober. But he guessed it was for the best.

But he could have proposed…!

Someone shifted next to him and Antonio's eyes flew open. Maybe it had all been a dream! A big, nasty, nervous-proposer dream! He had just gotten antsy about popping the question and it was all a dream! With this drugging idea, he pounced on the figure next to him. "Romano! Good morning!"

"Fucking…it's me, Gilbert!" Gilbert yelped, pushing his friend off him. "Christ, Antonio. I know you're obsessed, but I didn't know you were _that_ obsessed!"

Antonio managed to save himself from falling off the mattress. "Gilbert?" His head was still spinning from the sudden movement. "Why are you in bed with me?"

"I don't know. Because last night, you were crying about how Romano was gone and you wanted to make love to someone and I lost to Francis in rock-paper-scissors."

"Wha-a-t~?!"

"Relax, kid. I lost to Francis, but only the rights to my own bed. And hell knows I'm not sleeping on that thing you call a couch." Gilbert rubbed his eyes, yawning loudly. "Bastard of a brother…he didn't call back at all."

"Francis is here…?"

"Yeah. We're here for moral support. We thought you might try and commit suicide if we weren't both here to watch you. Francis had to call to cancel his meeting with his booty call pop singer this morning, so you'd better be thankful." Gilbert shuffled out of bed, wearing nothing but gray boxers with a yellow chick gangster-fied print. "I'm starved; that toad better have made something already." He left the room in the same manner of undress.

Antonio cringed. Gilbert was his best friend and maybe he was into guys, but there was a difference between sexy and ick. Romano, he couldn't convince to walk around in boxers all day. Gilbert, he couldn't convince to _put_ on pants all day.

When he came into the kitchen, he may as well have been dead and come back to life with the way Francis rushed at him. "My darling Antonio!" his friend cooed, wrapping his arms around the Spaniard and giving him an oddly affectionate backrub. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Depressed."

"Oh, don't pull that face, dear. We know where Romano is. He's with his family."

"We don't know where his family is."

"Should we?" Francis, still hanging onto his friend, started playing with the strands of hair on Antonio's neck, a sensual gesture if it wasn't Francis. "We kidnapped their son; you can't expect them to welcome us with open arms."

"What if he's there against his will?"

"Antonio." Francis backed away, taking his forlorn friend by the shoulders. "Listen to yourself. Your fiancé has been claimed by his family, where he rightfully belonged if we didn't go and snatch him up. Families don't hold their own against their will. I'm sure we can find where he is, and if need be, you can go rescue him or whatnot. As for now, you'd sit your ass down and eat my food, okay?"

"If you two don't want to get involved, that's okay," Antonio sighed, sitting next to Prussia in front of a well-decorated crepe. "It's my business and you two aren't really responsible for it…"

"Why do you say that?" Prussia shouted, although Antonio was but a few inches away. "First of all, we'd get incriminated if Romano opens his fat mouth. We're here to help you get him back before he tells on all of us. And damn, even if that wasn't the case, you're our buddy and we're not going to let you chase your kid and let you fall in a ditch doing so."

"Thanks…?"

"Eat, you idiot," Francis said good-naturedly. "Otherwise, when Ludwig calls back, you won't have the strength to answer the phone."

Almost mischievously, the phone started ringing.

--

Whoever said that family was where the heart is was a total douche. Breakfast had been overwhelming, with Romulus's happy grin and his happy banter with Feliciano. Romano figured it was only natural for a father to interact with the son he had known the most, but it was still annoying. Ledell sipping tea and making snide comments along with acting almost matronly was also too much. He didn't bother excusing himself and slipped into the kitchen.

This damn house. He _thought_ he went into the kitchen but he had wandered into some kind of pantry.

"Lovino!" There would be no mistaking Feliciano's dumb voice, even if he hadn't lived with the kid for twelve years. Romano turned, seeing Feliciano grinning like mad and holding a box of gummies.

"What do you want," Romano said flatly.

"I just want to talk to you, _fratello._" Feliciano opened the box and popped a purple candy in his mouth as if he hadn't just eaten breakfast. "Want one? They're good."

"No."

"Come on! Come talk with me!" Feliciano giggled as he looped an arm around Romano's and pulled him out toward the courtyard. "We're brothers, so don't look so grumpy!"

"How do I even know you're my brother?" Romano scoffed.

Feliciano stopped in his tracks, before thrusting the box into Romano's hands. "Look, look!" he said excitedly, reaching for his pants. Romano was about to jam the sharpest points of the box into his perverted brother's eyes but Feliciano had only pulled down the waistband to show a bit of hip. There was an almost boot-like birthmark. "You should have one too. Daddy…Romulus says it looks like Italy, but I think it looks like a stiletto!"

Romano would not admit he had an identical mark on his hip, one which Antonio had run his fingers over and breathed in his ear how appropriate for him, with his boots made for walking. Feliciano didn't notice his older brother's flush and took the box back with a grin. "So if you have one, than we're twins. Really, Lovino! You weren't this mistrusting when you were a kid!"

"I can hardly believe that a couple of strangers that snatch me off the street and claim to be my family when I was told that they were dead," Romano sniffed, following Feliciano for some unknown reason. "Why should I suddenly believe all of you?"

"Brother," Feliciano said suddenly, as they reached the sunny courtyard. "You said before there were people waiting at home for you. Who are they?"

"Oh…just some guys."

"Really?! And what are they like?" Feliciano had sat down on the ground, not minding that there was dirt or germs or the like. He had eaten half the gummy box. "Sit, sit!" he insisted.

Romano humored him and sat, but he wasn't going to get loose-jawed and say something he shouldn't. What if the 'parents' had hired Feliciano to try and get information out of him? Maybe they were scammers, holding him for ransom. "One of them is a pervert," Romano said, thinking of Francis and how the bastard had always been having his hands in the wrong places, although he never touched him. "Just a general dirty-headed idiot. The other one is a jerk. He pisses me off and he never stops talking. He likes to talk about all the dates he goes on but he fails at all of them. Oh, and the other one! He's the biggest bastard, really. He smiles all the time and he likes to talk to me and he won't leave me alone…" Romano clamped his lips together, realizing he had gone off without noticing it.

Feliciano giggled, popping the last gummy in his mouth so crystalline sugar dusted his lips. "Ooh," he said, waving the box around. "This last person…do you like him?"

"W-what would make you think that?!"

"The way you talk about him! Your voice got _dreamy_!" Feliciano was delirious, Romano decided. His voice had gotten angry, if it changed at all. He had the feeling to punch the younger Vargas, but that was nothing new.

"So what are their names? We should bring them to the house. They'd love it here! And I really want to meet Mister Dreamboat!"

"Fuck you! I'll never tell you!"

"Aw…" Feliciano abandoned the box to the ants as he grabbed his brother's elbow. "Please? Please? I won't steal him, promise! It's just…they're your friends and I haven't been with you in such a long time…I want to see who your friends are. I want to get to know you better, Lovino! We have twelve years to catch up on!"

"I keep telling you freaks my name is _Romano_!"

"Lovino," Feliciano said, suddenly serious. "I don't care what you say, or what you call me, but the fact is this: your name is Lovino Vargas. I don't know what your kidnappers told you, but Romano is _not_ your name. Ah! Your kidnappers! Do you remember them?"

"I was never kidnapped," Romano insisted, a bit anxious about Feliciano's quick change from calculating killer to ditzy idiot. Antonio made sure of that. _Antonio_…

He was supposed to be engaged. Instead, he was held up in this damn maze of a house with a stupid brother, a brainless father, and a scary mother. He was supposed to be planning the whole wedding because Antonio wouldn't do it and he was supposed to be fending off Francis's teasing about him getting married in the first place and Gilbert's inability to function was supposed to be getting in the way of his planning. He was supposed to get stressed and have everything fall together on the wedding day, and damn, he was supposed to be _engaged_! Feeling angry, he stood up suddenly, startling Feliciano.

"Lovino?"

"Stop calling me that. Shut up." When he felt Feliciano make a movement to follow him, he quickened his pace. "Don't follow me, you bastard! Stay away!"

"But…"

"I don't want to talk to you! Go play with your bodyguard idiot!" Romano had no idea where he was going, but he didn't care. He lost Feliciano without much effort.

Ledell and Romulus, who had been watching this exchange from the balcony in the shadows, remained still until Feliciano had wandered off, calling for Ludwig. "If that wasn't something, I don't know what is," Romulus mused, leaning into the sunlight.

"We need to tell him," Ledell said, her voice clearly used to giving orders. "He will run away and gods know how he managed to elude us for twelve years. He needs to know what really happened, since it appears whoever he's been living with hasn't been telling him the truth."

"Do you think he'll tell us? Who he's been with all these years?"

"Hell if I know. I don't know exactly how close he's been with his friends. Or kidnappers." Ledell sighed, her hands closing into fists. "I don't know how anyone could do this. Tear a child away from his family. They were kids, I know…but they should be adults now. They should know better."

Romulus watched her warily, but nodded. "I want to know who they are too."

"When I find them, I'm going to tear them to bits. They should know better than to cross a mother."

--

Three grown men sitting around a tiny café table really shouldn't attract too much attention. Unfortunately, if you were a flashy albino, a flirtatious Frenchman, and an anguished Spaniard, that was close to impossible.

"Where is he?" Gilbert hissed, checking his watch again. "He said we should have been here on time and that brother of mine is _late_."

"He was really going to meet us, right?" Antonio asked again, the tenth time. "You were hogging the phone…I only heard to meet us here to talk to us…"

"Hey, sweetheart!" Francis called to a nearby waitress. "You free later?"

"You are in a relationship!" Antonio grounded.

"There he is!" Gilbert hissed, standing and pointing so that anyone watching would have a clear idea what was going on. Ludwig, trying to remain inconspicuous, was making his way toward them, wearing a suit and all. "And he's still looking like the very neat little brother I left behind."

"Gilbert," Ludwig said politely, nodding at his brother as he pulled up a chair. He looked like he was desperately trying to find a pair of sunglasses or something to hide his face to protect his anonymity. He stared at Francis and Antonio. "Your friends…?"

"Yup! This is Francis; he's a to-be-renown lyricist for a currently local singer. This is Antonio; he's the fiancé of the kid I was telling you about." Gilbert clapped Antonio on the back. "He's a good guy; he just wants his fiancé back."

Ludwig studied them. "I'm not sure if that's plausible," he started, clasping his hands together in business.

"Why not?" Antonio had butt in.

Ludwig let out a sigh. "I'm going to be frank with the three of you. I believe you three are the kidnappers that the Vargas family is looking for. However, I have told no one about our meeting and I bring nothing to document my visit with the three of you. This does not mean I wish to cooperate with you. I came as a friendly call to my brother, which I have not spoken to since he was disowned."

There was a tense silence. "Why would you come to us with seemingly no strings attached?" Francis asked suspiciously.

"I was not asked to," Ludwig said simply, as if that explained all. "I was not asked to help you three either. I am hired by the Vargas family; and I follow their instructions."

"Can we ask questions?"

"I can't see why you can't. Although may you ask questions, I will answer them as long as they don't infringe on private matters." Ludwig sat back; the piece was on the trio's side.

"Where is he?" Antonio asked first.

"No comment."

"How is he?"

"He's fine." Taking the coffee that had been sitting untouched in front of Gilbert, Ludwig drank it, hardly pausing to cringe at its heat. "He's been kept in the boundaries of the house, but otherwise he is up and running, cursing his way through the day."

Antonio let a sigh of relief.

"Have they spoken to him yet?" Francis asked. "His…family, I mean."

"To my knowledge, no. But I left the house an hour ago and that may have changed."

"Can we see him?" Antonio broke in.

"You may, but I wouldn't advise it, as they are very suspicious as to whatever happens to their oldest son."

"And you can't take him out to see us?"

"No."

"Have they done anything about their alleged kidnappers?" Gilbert cackled.

"Yes, actually. They have contacted a couple private investigators. I believe they will be trying to draw information out of the boy as soon as possible. They were willing to look another way earlier, but now that he is out of harm's way, they are looking for retaliation. Especially Mrs. Vargas."

"Can you take a message for me?" Again, Antonio had interrupted.

Ludwig stared down at the dregs of the coffee before nodding curtly. "I will."

"Tell him I'll find him. I'll find him and the first thing I'll do is propose." He ignored the surprised looks Gilbert and Francis gave him. "I know he knew I was going to do it. So tell him to wait for me."

Ludwig nodded again, putting the cup back on its saucer with a final clink. "Our time is up. I have taken enough time away from my employer's side. Excuse me." He had gotten up to go when Gilbert stopped him, grabbing at his brother's wrist.

"You're not some bodyguard to Romano, are you? Or his old man?" Gilbert let out a bark of laughter. "Guarding an old man, Luddy? I'm surprised at you!"

Ludwig pulled his hand away. "If you must know, I'm guarding Feliciano Vargas. Good day to you three." He turned on his heel and marched away, ignoring the catcalls Gilbert shot his way.

It was a name Francis could barely place, but if he turned his head right, the glare of the passing cars was similar to a silver spoon they once possessed once upon a time.

--

Note: Of course the twins would have the same birthmark in the shape of Italy. That is a given. Touchy feely friends are who Antonio gravitates toward. And people think that I've gotten to the big revolution! No way! Romano is still in the dark! Things start to see the light in the next chapter, in case you were wondering. And Gilbert calls Ludwig 'West' because we are in my AU and no one in my AU calls another 'West'. That is not AU-logical. Review, please.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

Background music: --

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"They're here, Ledell." Romulus stood at the door, not going further although it was their mutual room. When Ledell was in the room before it was time for bed, it was _her_ room.

"Where's Lovino?" Ledell asked, still sitting stationary in front of the vanity mirror. There was no makeup on the table or on her face; she was simply sitting and staring at herself.

"Feliciano said he locked himself in his room."

"Good. Make sure he stays there. Take them to the parlor."

When Ledell finally left the room, she made her way down the hallway, gracefully gliding as if she had no purpose but to carelessly wander her house. By simple chance, she stopped in front of Lovino's room. She reached for the doorknob, jiggling it and finding it satisfactedly locked.

"Leave me alone," a voice called from within, sounding utterly distraught. Ledell didn't answer and simply wandered off to the parlor.

Romulus and Feliciano (her useless array of men, she'd hoped Lovino would be an improvement) were bustling around the guests, Romulus offering everything from tea to a backrub and Feliciano jabbering away about everything from tea cozies to peanuts. Ledell stepped into the room, her black heels clicking introductorily and making her husband and son start.

"Scatter," she ordered, and Romulus quickly took his post next to her as Feliciano took a seat a bit farther away, his lips twitching in effort to keep in his chatter.

"Ma'am." So they were blondes. That better not affect their work. The older-looking one of the two, with neatly kept sandy hair and unmistakably thick eyebrows, stood politely, dipping his head with respect. He was wearing what looked like a British investigator's coat.

"So, what's the deal?" the other one asked, lounging as if he was in his own house. In comparison, this young man looked rather unkempt, like he had just woken up. His limbs were splayed in an effort for comfort and he was drowning in a huge bomber jacket. Currently, he was playing with a toothpick in his mouth, as if it made him look cool or legitimate. Ledell would have thrown him out on his sorry ass if his eyes didn't look promising behind the carelessly bent glasses on his face.

"My name is Ledell Vargas," she said shortly, nodding so the neater man knew to sit. "Normally, I would have kept my maiden name, but that man there claimed a part of my heart so I must give him credit." She gestured loosely at Romulus, who grinned idiotically. "The bastard's name is Romulus, but you needn't bother yourself with remembering that. That idiot over there is my youngest son, Feliciano. Similar instances with his name."

"Pleased to meet you, Ms. Vargas," the sandy-haired private investigator said, glancing at his partner as he started tapping a tune on the side of the couch. "I'm Arthur Kirkland, and I was recently transferred from her Majesty's Secret Service to try and teach the common whelps how to do their job. This is my partner, Alfred Jones."

"Alfred _F_. Jones," Alfred corrected. "Now I think we'll cut it with the small talk, huh? You don't look very skilled in that area, if I may say so, Ledell." Before Ledell could look offended, he extracted a silver spoon from inside his coat. "I read the file as we drove here, although I didn't take detailed notes like Eyebrows here. So you're looking for the kidnappers of your eldest son? Consider it done. Can we meet him?"

"Maybe you should offer your suspects before you rush into anything," Arthur interrupted, looking miffed.

"Alright, whatever, old man. So we looked into your old town and we examined the activity that happened around the time of the theft twelve years ago. Of course, that gave us a pretty big list of names of active criminals in a twenty mile radius of your house. With my genius, we managed to narrow the list to a possible fifty. Don't ask; it's police work. Granted, when your crime took place, five of the suspects were pulled in for crimes of their own. Fifteen had legitimate alibis. While we weren't there at the time, we gathered witness remarks. Many state that it happened so early in the afternoon that no one had bothered to take in their surroundings so that was no help at all. If you've got a kid, obviously you're going to stand out, but no one said they saw your boy in the next weeks following the theft.

"So we deduct the obvious. The kidnappers fled town. At the time, there were several fugitives already established. Some were not going from your town, so we checked them off. Sure, we could check every border and see which region they fled to, but that was unnecessary. Why, the kidnappers are stupid criminals. Can I talk to your son now?"

"Go on," Ledell pressed, almost grinning with the way Alfred's personality was agreeing with her.

"Ugh. Jeez, just as pushy as Arthur." Waving around the silver spoon, Alfred made the spoon speak for itself until Ledell snatched it from his hand. Engraved was the name _Feliciano Vargas_. "Thank you, ma'am, for adding your signatures to your silverware. You claimed you had a set of silverware stolen from your house. We managed to find this in a pawn shop. We couldn't track down the rest of the set, sorry, but from the manager, we narrowed the kidnappers to three men. The manager claimed he never saw your son, but these three had come to try and sell off some goods, most of which we have tracked back to you. Unfortunately, most of them were also bought off. But never fear! We have their files on hand!"

Whipping out a set of manila folders out of his jacket, as it were a library, he placed it on the table in front of them. "We…well, why don't you stop sulking, Arthur, and take the spotlight if you want to talk so much?"

"Bloody wanker," the man muttered, although he cleared his throat as Alfred sat back. "The manager in question did not have a security system but he could remember faces if he saw them. We merely showed him a few photos and he confirmed these three." Opening each of the folders, he revealed a photo of each of the suspected criminals. "First, Francis Bonnefoy. Currently would be twenty-nine. Of French descent. If you thought his last name was familiar, he's the prodigy son of the Bonnefoy company which deals with high-end stocks. He last went to a high school in your previous hometown but dropped out several months before he graduated. These were the months after he stole from you.

"Second, Antonio Carriedo. Also twenty-nine. Spanish, comes from an common family. Ran away around seventeen and hasn't kept contact with his family since. His whereabouts are currently unknown and we suspect they've all been giving fake names to their employers. We ran checks on all of them and none of them have come up in any company records.

"Third, Gilbert Beilschmidt, although you wouldn't find that on any birth certificates or records. He changed his name when he was sixteen after he was disowned by his own family. He has a record of petty crimes in his youth, including disturbing the peace, minor thefts, grand theft auto, and other likes. He has currently disappeared off the map as well. Further research shows he comes from the Weillschmidt family."

Feliciano gasped, breaking the mood. "Ludwig!"

Arthur stared at him. "He has a brother, Ludwig. How did you know?"

Ledell collected herself to the more dignified height. "We have employed one Ludwig Weillschmidt. Has he been contacting his brother?"

"According to phone records, the Weillschmidt family has tried to contact him after he disappeared after your theft and he hasn't been in contact with any branch of the family. We don't have current phone records, but he have little to believe that this has changed. If you'd like, we can track him as well."

Ledell nodded sharply, turning to Feliciano. "Where is he?"

Feliciano fidgeted. "He said he was going out…because I told him I needed tomatoes for sauce!" It wasn't a good look his mother was giving him and he knew for a fact that Ludwig wasn't involved because he knew him! Where Ludwig had been exactly, he didn't know, but he didn't think it mattered.

"Well, find him. We need to make sure he's not talking to his brother." Feliciano scampered out of the room. Ledell turned back to the folders, running perfectly manicured fingers over the pictures. "They all look so young…do you have any recent photos?"

"As we stated earlier, they've all as fallen through the cracks. None of them have applied for driver's licenses or any other sort of photo identification. Their passports have expired for some time now. They are literally off the radar."

Ledell swept the folders off the table. Arthur blinked in surprise, as Alfred studied the woman carefully. "You call yourself investigators? If these are indeed the kidnappers, then we should know where they are! Why aren't you doing more to locate them?"

"We're currently looking for them…!"

"Listen, broad," Alfred said, breaking his silence. "We never said these were the kidnappers for a fact. They're speculation. We still need your son to confirm this. This is also a case of missing persons, although all parties involved have done nothing to reunite themselves. Don't blow up on us just based on a thought."

Ledell glared at him, her nostrils flaring in anger. "Your insubordination is commendable."

"Excuse me, ma'am," Alfred said, grinning, "but you're not my boss. Only Arthur can snap at me about that."

"Shut your mouth, Alfred," Arthur said shortly.

"Can we talk to your son yet?" Alfred asked, ignoring him.

Ledell took a deep breath. Romulus, who had been standing statue-like, had glanced over at the photos. "No. Not yet. We must speak to him. He maintains that he was not kidnapped and claims that he was told we had all perished in a fire. He has taken measures to run away, but we have kept him here."

"By all means, you should let him run away! He might lead us to the kidnappers!" Alfred shouted.

"If you private investigators cannot even keep track of three rogues, I have little trust you could find my Lovino again," Ledell sniffed. "He must be told the truth, and until then, you two may not speak to him. That is all. You are dismissed. Leave the folders. I would like to read them."

The blondes were silent, until Arthur stood, straightening his coat. "Very well," he said curtly, giving Alfred a look. "We will leave until you call us back. I trust you have our numbers."

"You're a freaky broad," Alfred said bluntly, as he followed his partner out the parlor. "We'll show ourselves out, thanks."

"Romulus, make sure they don't find Lovino."

"Yes, ma'am." Romulus followed them, quickly falling into chatting when the door closed behind them. Ledell sat and stared at the folders, as if looking at the pictures could cause the three suspects to materialize and appear in front of her.

"Francis, Antonio, Gilbert," she read, her tone level. "You'd better hope Lovino doesn't recognize you."

--

Ludwig had made sure his engine had cooled until he left the garage and started back to the main house. He could only say he was doing maintenance checkup on his car if anyone asked, Feliciano being the only one knowing he was going out. Although he didn't know why anyone would ask, he was not going to raise suspicion anyway. As he neared the front doors, he saw a green car he didn't notice.

_The private investigators? _He slunk into the shadows, making his way to the backdoor. As he managed to become hidden by the shrubs, he heard voices.

"Well, don't think Ledell meant any harm. She's like that all the time! She's a feisty type!" Romulus was gushing.

"Freaky," a young voice said, and Ludwig peeked out to see a young twenty-something-year-old shaking his head. He was wearing a brown jacket. "Well, I guess we'll come back tomorrow, granted she changes her mind."

"Don't let her interrogate the boy," his partner said, opening the door to the driver's side. "We don't know if his kidnapping was a good or bad experience. She might make him remember things he shouldn't, and we need him in good mental health if we're going to find these criminals."

"You think it's really those three?"

"Almost ninety-nine percent positive!" the bomber jacket investigator agreed. "All we need is your kid's approval and we can rip the town apart. If he was found locally, the kidnappers should still be in the area!"

Ludwig snuck out back before he could hear anything else. Things were heating up, certainly. He'd better deliver his message and find Feliciano to take up his post again before he was missed. He opened the back door and slipped in, only to collide with a Vargas twin.

"Ah!" Feliciano grabbed him. "Ludwig! Where were you?"

"I stepped out," Ludwig repeated, saying what he had told Feliciano two hours before.

Feliciano pressed a bottle of tomato sauce in his hand. "If anyone asks, you were out to buy sauce for me. You'd better be careful, Ludwig! I think Ledell's going to be talking to you soon!"

"Why?"

"The investigators said that one of the kidnappers may be your brother! You haven't been talking to your brother, have you?"

Now this was unexpected. He had orders, but no one had ordered him not to meet with his brother. No one had ordered him to tell the truth, either, especially if he was not going to be caught up in the whole mess. "No, of course not," Ludwig said. "I went to talk to a friend who happened to be visiting."

Feliciano let out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness. I was worried! If your brother's a bad guy and you've been talking to him, I don't know what would happen to you…" He played with his fingers, staring at the sauce Ludwig was still holding. "I don't want you to go away, you know. I like having you here."

Ludwig glanced at the sauce in his hand. Feliciano was starting to turn the same shade.

"Where's your brother?" he asked.

"Lovino? He's still in his room. I heard the investigators were leaving, so I think Ledell might go try and talk to him…"

"Where is your mother?"

"Still in the parlor…wait! Where are you going?"

"To talk to your brother." Ludwig made his way out of the backdoor foyer and into the main hallway. He had to convey the message before Ledell kept Lovino or Romano in tight custody. Surely if his brother's name was involved, she would ask and ask until he confessed. With Gilbert's behavior as it was, he was certain Lovino had something to tell. He had been asked by Antonio to send the message and that was what he had to fulfill.

"What? Why?" Feliciano struggled to keep up. "Ludwig," he said quietly, falling into the wide strides as his bodyguard. "Were you talking to Gilbert?"

The mention of his brother's name threw him off, but only for a step. "No. Why would you think that?"

"I can't believe you. You just lied to my face." Feliciano stopped, but Ludwig kept on his path. "Ludwig. Please don't get involved. I don't want you to go away."

"I must have a quick word with your brother, Mr. Vargas. If you'll excuse me." Ludwig didn't turn as he rounded the corner and headed to Romano's room.

"It's Feliciano," Feliciano whispered.

To be continued

--

Note: In my mind, America is smart; he just is too stupid to show it. And he uses 'broad' all the time like that great '20's times. He's just cool like that. Things get complicated. The 'police' are getting involved. And hold your horses; the big reveal is coming in due time. Oh, look, it'll be next chapter! So keep reading, please. Review.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

Background music: --

**---**

_I'll find you, and the first thing I'll do is propose._ Romano barely had time to turn this over in his head after Ludwig left that Ledell barreled into his room. "Lovino, it's time we talked to you. Come with me."

Romano was still absorbed in the message that he allowed his mother to drag him from the room and down the stairs. Antonio knew he was missing! And he was looking for him! Damn, that bastard left before he could ask the damned bodyguard if he could take a message to Antonio. He didn't think he'd have too much luck with that; Ludwig seemed to make it appear to be a one-time thing but he'd like to tell Antonio that he was waiting.

The next time he blinked, he found himself sitting in some sort of room, facing Ledell and Romulus on some fancy chair. He hadn't been in this room again; looking around, he saw a dormant fireplace and some creepy deer head staring down at them. Shrinking away from its direction, he noticed Feliciano looking forlorn, sinking into a chair next to him. His brother gave him a half-hearted encouraging smile before the frown settled on his face again.

"Lovino," Ledell started, crossing her legs to mean business. She was wearing an outfit of shocking black. There were three files in her hands, closed and spotless. "It's time we told you the truth."

"What? That you're not my real family?"

Ledell smacked him across the face with the folders. "Silence. Your time away has made you inexcusably rude. Obviously you have been told other stories involving our deaths. Feliciano told me you were told that we had perished in some sort of fire."

Romano glared at Feliciano, who kept staring at the ground.

"That is an outright lie. I don't know who told you such stories. Here is the truth. Yesterday was the exact day twelve years ago that the Vargas house in Inizio was robbed. Your father, brother, and I had stepped out. You had stayed behind because of some argument you had with us."

"You said that dad liked me best," Feliciano said quietly. "You said that you weren't wanted around and wouldn't say anything else even when we told you you were wrong. You didn't want to come with us and said you wanted to take a nap and that we should get lost."

"There's no reasoning with you when you're like that," Romulus added, a smile itching on his face.

"Well, we were making our way to the heart of town but Feliciano said he didn't want to leave you alone and he felt bad that we'd left you by yourself so we came back. When we opened the door, we heard sounds in the kitchen and by the time we went there, it was more than obvious that someone had been in the house. We also heard sounds upstairs. While we were making our way to the origin of the commotion, we passed more rooms that had been ransacked. By the time your father and I reached our room, we knew we had been robbed. The thieves were escaping when we finally caught up to them and we were too late to stop them from getting away.

"We were trying to access the damage when Feliciano started crying about the fact that he couldn't find you. And we had to conclude that they had taken you along.

"We called the police and they did a search of the local area but no one could say they knew about the case. Then your stupid father told me this probably wouldn't have happened if we lived closer to the town but what was done was done. We didn't know if they were planning on keeping you for ransom or if they had meant to take you, but we tried to find you. We had search parties look for you. By the time we came to terms that you weren't in the area, it was too late to zone in to potential spots you could have been taken. The case ran cold. We had to accept the worst had happened. But now that we've found you, we hope to bring your kidnappers to justice." Ledell finished her story and sat back, waiting for a reaction.

Romano ran the story in his head. "I can barely remember what I was like when I was seven," he mused. "So I can barely remember what my parents and brother looked like. How can I be sure that you're what you say you are?"

Feliciano stood up and made his way to the mantle. Taking a framed picture, he made his way back to Romano, smiling languidly as he handed it over. "This was taken a month or so before you were kidnapped, _fratello._ Look! Aren't we so cute?"

It was a family photo. Romulus was looking quite younger, grinning as energetically as he was now. Ledell was sitting in front of him, the same strict, unflinching look on her face. Feliciano, considerably younger, was looking the embodiment of cheerfulness, a wide smile on his face and his arms around his older brother. And the brother was undoubtedly him; he had frowned in the mirror thousands of times to know his own pout.

"I don't know if you saw this while you were being held, but this is a newspaper clipping on the case," Romulus said helpfully, taking a stiff, dried paper out from a nearby cabinet. It was growing yellow with age. The headlines screamed something about theft and child snatching, with a picture of Romulus looking utterly tearful next to a serene, somewhat irritated looking Ledell on the front page. There was another picture of his frowning self, with his own stats underneath like some twisted baseball card. _Lovino Vargas_.

He had not touched a newspaper from when he was seven until he was about ten, when the trio allowed him to get the paper. Whenever he walked into Gilbert or Francis looking at the newspaper, they would quickly put it away and hurry him out of the room. He had not thought much about it then, but they had also switched the channel whenever the evening news came on. Gilbert had said something about news not being awesome enough to watch and Francis had told him that there was nothing but the same old corruption and sadness. He had never caught Antonio doing any of this.

"We had headlines for a while, until the case started going nowhere. People were giving you up for a lost cause."

"They told me my name was Romano," Romano murmured to himself, but as he thought back, when they had told him his family had died, he couldn't remember feeling particularly upset. Sure, he was sad that he would never see them again, but when he told them his name, Antonio had said, "Romano?" and it reminded him of his father. Something possessed him to agree.

"They lied," Feliciano said simply.

Romano stared at the picture and the newspaper clipping. This was awfully convincing. "I'm not sure," he said slowly. He had been with these people for seven years; he had been with the three for twelve. He knew how they worked and how they lied and he couldn't fathom how this had come up. But Antonio and Gilbert and Francis had all said the same story; they had saved him from a fire, that his family had died, and they would take care of them. But personally, he was never one to ask.

"What school did you attend?" Ledell asked.

"I didn't; I was home schooled."

"Well, at least they were smart enough to educate you," Ledell muttered. "But think about it. If they were really the only ones left after we died, why didn't they just send you to a normal school?"

"They said that the people who burnt down our house would find me." It was starting to become a more pathetic story when he told it. How had he not realized it before? It was full of holes.

"They have to fill out paperwork, sweetie," Ledell said exasperatedly. "Have you noticed that they do nothing involving you and paperwork? They don't have the necessary identification to get you across to anything. No school, no driver's license. Were you planning on attending home school college?"

"I was going to ask if I could go to college," Romano said under his breath, but Ledell caught it anyway.

"That's not going to happen, I'm afraid. You might be qualified, but unless you have all the information in your files and birth certificates, you won't be allowed in. And they certainly don't have them." Ledell smiled, leaning forward. "But we do. We could help you actually accomplish something. We just want to know who has been holding you all this time."

"Is that a threat?" Romano asked suspiciously, putting the picture and paper back on the table between them.

"It's not a threat, honey. We just want to put criminals where they rightfully belong."

"Son," Romulus said, giving Ledell a look. "We have been deeply worried about you all these years. After all, you're our own flesh and blood. Now I'm sure by the way you're closing up about whoever kidnapped you, you definitely trust them, maybe more than you do us. Personally, I'm not out for blood like your mother is. We just want to know why anyone would do such a thing…"

"So that's what it is?" Romano shouted. "Good cop bad cop? Well, in this role-play, what's Feliciano? The guard?"

"Lovino," Feliciano cried, "we're really happy to have you back, but we want to know what's happened to you all these years!"

"Why should I tell you?" Romano yelled back. "At least they were nice to me! All you people have done is keep me here without contact with the outside world and then you say you're my parents and you want me to turn in the people I've been with for twelve years?" He bit back the comment on Antonio proposing to him. That hadn't happened yet, and with circumstances as they were, he wasn't sure if he wanted to anymore. Sure, these freaks of family were particularly odd to him, but the trio hadn't been especially truthful. Were they ever planning on telling him the fire story was a lie? They had practically taken him from his own home and made him travel around with him while telling him made-up tales. He couldn't stay here with his distant parents and brother, but he couldn't go back to a bunch of lying kidnappers. He just wanted to be left alone to think.

The conversation was quickly coming to a close. Ledell whipped out her final weapon; her files. "We think these three are the people who have taken you. We don't know where they are; as you are missing, they might have even fled the city. All we need is for you to confirm they are the kidnappers and we can start looking for them."

Romano took the files and opened them, his heart jumping to his throat. Although they were all twelve years younger, they were unmistakable. He'd never seen Antonio like this and he resisted the telltale urge to inspect the photos closer. He forced a blank look on his face as he read over the information about Gilbert, Francis, and his almost fiancé Antonio. They had police files; this couldn't be good.

"Are they?" Ledell asked eagerly.

Romano stared at them for a moment before closing them and handing them back to her. "I don't know who they are." And he didn't.

--

He didn't want to talk to Ludwig. It was easy to shake his bodyguard off, as Ludwig didn't particularly want to talk to him either. It unsettled him a bit, but Feliciano pushed it out of his mind. It wasn't the biggest deal right now.

Ledell and Romulus had gone out to dinner, or to discuss the afternoon, Feliciano didn't care. The hallway was dark as the servants hadn't turned the lights on yet. It seemed appropriate as he ran the past day in his head.

Ludwig had been meeting with his brother. Well, he suspected he was. He wasn't sure. But he was meeting with his brother, who was a suspected Lovino snatcher. What did this mean? He didn't know either. Lovino had been upset ever since they discussed the kidnapping, especially after he saw the photos. It wasn't direct confirmation, which was why he had overheard his mother planning to ask again tomorrow. They had to wait until Lovino said yes definitely before they could do anything.

He knocked gently on the door, and when there was no answer, Feliciano tried the door. To his surprise, he found it unlocked. Entering, he found the room dark; as he held his breath, he heard quiet crying in the corner near the window.

"Lovino?" he whispered. There was a sharp intake of breath.

"What do you want?" His brother's voice sounded wet. Closing the door behind him, Feliciano made his way through the darkened room to the window where the moonlight was shining in. Lovino was curled up on a chair, looking small. "What did you come here for? Did that bitch ask you to ask me more questions? I don't want to talk about it anymore. Leave me alone."

"No. I'm here by myself. Off the record." Feliciano held up his hands with a smile. "I'm just here to check up on my twin brother. I couldn't care less if those three kidnapped you. But what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

He had stumbled on his brother in a weakened state, because his lips were loose. "I was supposed to get engaged yesterday," Lovino cried, wiping his eyes with his hands. "Now it's never going to happen."

"Of course it will. Mom won't hold you here for too long. Then you can get back to your friends and you can get married, Lovino."

"Romano. Call me Romano." Feliciano didn't know his brother's attachment to the name, but he supposed if it made him feel better.

"Romano," Feliciano said slowly, before grinning. "Romano," he repeated. "It sounds good. I like it! It's a cute name!"

"It's what he called me," Romano grumbled, sniffling.

"Who?"

"The person I was going to get married to. He called me that."

_They told me my name was Romano._ "Your friends…" Feliciano started.

"Yes, alright? My friends are the kidnappers!" He instantly clamped up. "I didn't say anything."

"No, you didn't. Whatever you say stays in this room, between us. I promise." Feliciano watched Romano fidget. "Pinkie promise. I never break these."

"Needle in your eye," Romano murmured, locking pinkies. "I was supposed to get engaged," he said, as Feliciano settled in the chair across from him. "I was happy. I really wanted to, because I liked him so much. Now this is all fucked up. I don't know what I want anymore. I wish I never found out."

"How was he like?" And this was a completely innocent question. Feliciano was not planning on using the description to pinpoint one of the three. Romano sniffed again.

"He was warm. He was always there even when I didn't want him to be. He was inappropriate and stupid and dense. But he was so sweet." Romano buried his head in his arms. "I don't want to talk about it anymore," his voice said, muffled.

"It's okay," Feliciano soothed, patting him on the shoulder. "You want to hear something about me now, in exchange? I haven't told this to anyone yet!"

"What?" Romano asked drudgingly.

"I like…" Feliciano faltered. "I like Ludwig. There. I said it! What, you weren't surprised? But I think he's lying to me too."

"Just twin luck," Romano huffed. "We revolve around such undeserving bastards."

--

Note: ARG apparently sham chapters get flames. I was feeling the heat in just one afternoon. Whatever, man! I'm the authoress, and it's cold where I live! So despite my better judgment (and the fact that it's time I posted the next chapter), this is it: the big reveal. Did I cover all grounds?

And god, I hear a lot of people saying they dislike Ledell! Lordie, guys! Don't just hate on Sparta for being a caring mother. If you were kidnapped, I doubt your mothers would be cool with just sitting and waiting for you to come back. Twelve years, man. Give the woman a break.

I am aware that Sparta is technically in Greece. I'll explain later. Review, please.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

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Matthew didn't live in the dorms. He couldn't stand one month in them and quickly applied for one of the college-endorsed apartments around campus. Miguel, his Cuban transfer student who talked to him enough to know he could sing, had been able to mingle and make friends. He couldn't help that he was uninteresting, bland like vanilla ice cream.

"But vanilla ice cream has a taste that transcends time," Francis told him. "It's a perfect comparison for someone as sweet and timeless like you."

(At this point, Matthew flushed as he reached for the keys and pushed the disappointment that Francis had been busy that afternoon and couldn't meet with him.)

As he pushed the key in the keyhole, he was slightly surprised to find the door already unlocked. Did he forget to lock the door? It was completely possible. Opening the door, Matthew glanced into his darkened apartment and closed it behind him, reaching for the light switch.

A hand snaked through the darkness and grabbed him and Matthew froze as he felt someone move behind him. "Easy there, sweets," a voice said gravelly. "Just give me your valuables and you won't get hurt."

Matthew squeaked and pulled away. "Don't do that, Alfred! You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"You disappoint me!" A hand flicked on the light switch and Matthew blinked as he saw his older brother, with his messy blonde hair and signature brown jacket. "I was watching you through the peephole. First, you didn't notice that the spare key behind your doorplate was missing." Alfred held up the gleaming key. "Second, you keep your key in such an obvious place! Anyone could break in. And then you closed the door behind you when you knew something was wrong. If no one can look in, anyone could have raped you without anyone knowing!"

Matthew smirked as he crossed his arms. "Alfred, don't think I'm so stupid. The doorman wouldn't let anyone in he doesn't know, especially since he knows you from the last time you came and he thought you were me and wouldn't let me in when I came back. He already told me you came by."

"Touché, smart ass!" Alfred grinned, tapping his brother on the head as he made his way to the living room. "I'm impressed. Your school's loaded if they can give you this many channels." He gestured toward the television, which he collapsed in front of.

"Why are you here?" Matthew asked as he dropped his bag near the door and headed to the kitchen to make them coffee.

"A case," Alfred sighed, running a hand through his hair as he picked up the remote. "A kidnapping one, at that."

"Oh? Is your partner…Arthur, yes…is he in town too? How has he been since the last time I saw him?"

"Anal. He didn't want to be a burden on you, so he got a hotel room in the city."

"Ah. He wouldn't have been too much trouble. You two could have shared a bed." He laughed as Alfred became nervous, frantically pressing buttons on the remote to switch channels at lightning speed. "You weren't too sly with your crush last time, even if your policing skills are pretty good."

"Hey! He happens not to know, for your information!"

"I'm not surprised," Matthew mused, sitting next to his brother on the couch as Alfred clicked away. "With your schoolyard mentality of pushing your crush in the dirt, I'm surprised he hasn't dropped you for a more professional partner."

"He wouldn't do that," Alfred muttered, still looking embarrassed.

"Well? Tell me about the case! Kidnapping! Who was snatched?"

"It's actually an old case," Alfred explained, turning to Matthew. "Remember the Vargas case back when I was twelve? I mean, you were nine? The kidnapped twin of that rich family?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, he was finally found. He's completely fine."

"That's great! A happy ending." Matthew resisted the urge to tell his brother off for not taking off his shoes, but Alfred never listened anyway. He didn't know how Arthur could put up with him without being related to him.

"It would be, but the mom wants to throw these guys behind the slammer. She's a harsh one. She wants to find the kidnappers and put them to justice. Of course, I couldn't resist such a case." Alfred tossed his head around. "But I wasn't able to talk to the kid today, so I couldn't get anything out of him. We have three suspects, but we currently don't know where they are. They're somewhere in this city though, since the kid was found here."

"Ooh. Suspense." The coffeemaker in the kitchen beeped and Matthew excused himself to get them both cups. As he poured Alfred coffee in the kitchen, he found it a bit strange that his step brother was at such ease with him that he would randomly pop up. He'd heard numerous stories of stepsiblings that were always at each other's throats, but he had never had that problem with Alfred. They would fight from time to time, but Alfred was always protective of him and he always helped him out in a pinch.

Well, maybe he could understand why Arthur didn't leave his brother yet.

Alfred went at the coffee before Matthew could warn him of the freshness. As Alfred struggled with his burnt tongue, Matthew calmly added cream and sugar to his. "Well, tell me about the suspects. Motorcyclists?" He laughed lightly.

"Don't go looking for them and be a hero, Mattie," Alfred said, his eyes watering.

"That's your business," Matthew said, not the least interested in being in the paper for apprehending criminals. He was in the singing business. "Maybe I could spread it around so people could help you find these kidnappers."

"Oh! Good idea! I can describe them to you. I can't give too many details, and we're not even sure if these guys are the real deal. Maybe you've heard of them? They might use fake names, though…but anyway…Antonio Carriedo?"

Matthew shook his head, his spoon clinking gently as he stirred his coffee.

"Gilbert Beilschmidt?"

"Nope."

"Francis Bonnefoy?"

Matthew choked on his coffee.

--

"I did some research at the library," Francis said proudly. "The Vargas family has been tracked these few years, both because they're rich bastards and their kid was taken. Apparently, they moved around here a few months ago. They have a house on the outskirts of town."

"Good one!" Gilbert shouted, clapping as Francis modestly splayed his papers of research onto the table. Antonio picked them up and read them. "My baby brother thought he could keep us in the dark!"

"They live close by," Antonio read, his eyes scanning the paper. "If I hitched a cab, I could reach that house in no time."

"And then what would you do?" Gilbert asked, raising an eyebrow. "Ring the doorbell and ask to see the kid you kidnapped?"

Antonio shrugged, putting the paper down. "I wasn't a thief back in high school for nothing."

"You're going to sneak in?" Francis whistled. "Antonio, it makes me wonder if you've really given up crime."

"What should we do? Do you need us to help you?"

"No. It'll only take me. I can probably get him out of there and back in a night. I have to see the house though."

"Done!" Francis whipped out another few sheets of paper. "This is the house they live in! I was able to find some rough blueprints for it. There's no underground cells so we can bet your Romano is somewhere you can reach." Antonio took the papers and studied them too. "This is like a real heist, unlike any we've pulled before! _And_ you're kidnapping Romano again!"

"It's like double-dipping," Gilbert cackled. "It's the same case. Take him from his house. But whatever. I kind of miss that kid anyway."

"There aren't any trees around the house," Antonio noticed. "I'll have to actually climb in. It actually seems pretty interesting."

"You were meant to be a thief," Francis said solemnly. "Give up waiting on tables, my friend. We can take the world by storm."

"What about your singing kid?" Gilbert asked, poking Francis in the side.

"Mathieu? We could take him along!"

"I'll do it tonight," Antonio resolved, and Francis and Gilbert both held him down as if he were about to fly off at once.

"Think this through, buddy," Gilbert laughed uneasily. "You don't know where he is. We still need to talk to Ludwig to get the basics. We could beat it out of him."

"At least watch the house for a night or two," Francis insisted, holding down Antonio's other arm. "Learn from Gilbert. He knows how to pick houses. You've got to see what kind of security and where the goods are, right, Gilbert?"

"Right, right! So let's go and check out the scene first!"

"That's what I meant," Antonio said, frowning confusedly. "Can you two come with me?"

"Of course, of course!"

"Okay. Can you let go of me now?"

"Oh, but we love you so much!"

--

"Let me get this straight." Matthew sat on the couch by himself, wishing he had not spoken up. Now Alfred had called Arthur, who had been there in less than five minutes, and both had been trying to get as much information out of him. How long had he known Francis? What did he know about Francis's past? How close were they? (Matthew didn't know if he wanted to answer that as truthfully as he could) "You met him about seven months ago in a café when he helped you write some lyrics? Was he a lyricist before?"

"I don't know," Matthew said, not knowing who he should look at: his eager, grinning older brother or the all-business Arthur. "We never really talked about what he was before he came into town. He just said he was here for business but never specified. All he told me was that he was well off and he wanted to see the world for what it was instead of being cooped up in a house."

"Has he done anything suspicious? Have you seen any strange people with him?"

"He talks about a couple of his close friends, but I've never met them. He says he doesn't want them to see me." Matthew flushed as he remembered the _exact _words Francis had used. Something like…_if they saw you, they'd want to steal you away from me, and I can't have that, can I, sweetheart_?

Arthur looked amused. "How close did you say you two were?"

"Um…he's my lyricist. I see him a few times each week."

"How long?"

"A couple hours after my last class. Is this relevant?"

"Quite." Arthur had started jotting notes. "We need to know all things personal about him. After all, we haven't had much to go on except his seventeen year old self. He's been hiding around."

"He's not a bad person," Matthew insisted. "You must have gotten it wrong. He hasn't done anything to prove he's a liar."

"Maybe not now, but crimes in the past don't mean he's excused from them," Arthur said, finishing a note with a flourish. "We still have reason to suspect him."

"Mattie!" Alfred shouted, rushing up to his brother and throwing an arm around him. "How about this? It could help our case and you would be helping a frantic family! Try and see if you can get a confession out of him! It's pretty clear you two trust each other a lot and if you could get him to say something about it, even a word or two, it would help us a bunch! Granted, we're only private investigators and this case is technically cold except for us, but you could so much! Come on, Mattie!" Alfred hugged him tightly, as if this could convince him more.

"It seems like I would be invading in his privacy," Matthew said slowly.

"Come on. You don't think he's hiding anything, right? This only proves it. Please, Mattie? Really. We have our listening equipment about us, don't we, old man? Come on, let's get Mattie fitted!" Alfred stood and clapped Arthur on the back, rushing to the door where Arthur had thrown his stuff.

"I'm still astounded you're related to him," Arthur said as Alfred was out of earshot as he burrowed through his partner's bag. "You two are nothing alike."

"Eh, I guess Alfred's like that. It's part of his charm."

"Right." Matthew glanced at Arthur, whose eyes were still trained on Alfred. "He's loud and arrogant, but he gets things done."

"You really like him, don't you?" When Arthur jumped, Matthew smiled gently. "As a partner? You two don't seem to get along but I've heard you've solved some tricky cases together. You guys compliment each other."

"So I've heard," Arthur said, scratching his chin awkwardly. "He's only one year younger than me, but I feel like his mother."

"He wasn't very close with his own mother and he never really opened up to mine as much as he could have." Matthew smiled placidly, staring as Alfred whooped when he found what he was looking for. "He's not very close to anyone in general, really. The only one I've seen him talk to so much besides me is you, actually."

"He never told me that."

"He didn't? I would think he would." Before Arthur could comment, Alfred rushed up to them. "I found them! Come on, Mattie, I'll show you how they work! Just press this button. Talk clearly, okay? Try to get as close to Bonnefoy as possible. We want this testimony to be loud and clear. Oh! Do you know where he lives?"

"Don't stalk him, Alfred."

"Fine. Fine. We'll get the testimony first. Come on, Arthur! You can work this shit better than I can. Which plug thing does this go into?"

"Don't force it, you wanker." As Arthur went to help his brother, Matthew watched, cocking his head as their hands touched. Alfred got considerably more flustered and his movements got more exaggerated. But Arthur changed too; it wasn't very obvious, but he grew more composed, as if trying to keep his calm.

"I think I'm onto something here," Matthew murmured.

--

Note: I'm stho excited. Yes, lisp is necessary. Actually, not really, since I've got a busy week ahead of me, but this story is just…stho great. I've been neglecting actual work to do this. I'm pathetic and fail at life. Hopefully you will all start paypalling me and I get money for writing this. Just kidding. Actually, I'm not kidding. Or am I? Review, please, and write up your monetary notations as checks.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

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It had been a tiring few days. Feliciano had taken him to their obnoxious parents and gushed about how he had finally called himself Lovino and now that everything was back to normal, they could act like a normal family again. He had gone on and on until Ledell had slapped him to silence.

"Is this true? Lovino?"

Although Lovino had initially disliked (and still did, slightly, really) Ledell, he swallowed the irritation in his voice and forced a smile. "I really…do think that even though I don't remember much, you people…do seem to be my family."

And in one quick, un-Ledell-like motion, she swept him up in a very motherly hug. "You were always my favorite," she confided as Romulus and Feliciano watched on. "Feliciano was always too stupid for my tastes and your father was the same."

Lovino found himself too speechless to answer.

Looking back, he really should have tried this card, before he had become utterly convinced. He wasn't locked in his room anymore and he actually felt as if he had never left at all; Feliciano was gushing at his elbow whenever Ludwig wasn't around (and by some miracle of chance, his brother was spending somewhat less time with that German bastard), Romulus was _actually_ talking to him, and Ledell was still badgering him about his kidnappers, but _kinder_ now.

It was actually kind of strange.

The front door was unguarded at all times, and Lovino considered running off once, but that idea was quickly shot down. Where else would he go? Yes, he was still being closely kept near the house by Ledell, but there were more chances for escape now – although he never took them. Going back to the three would be pointless (ah, he told himself he wasn't going to think about them anymore). He had no where to go and nothing to call his own.

So in the Vargas household, he stayed.

He'd cleared his mind, bit the bullet, and tentatively opened his mind to the whole 'we're a big happy family' business. Other than the fact that Ledell kept asking him subliminally about it, he was going to forget anything in his past twelve years had happened. It hadn't occurred, and he'd been with this family for his entire life!

At least, that's what he thought until one night, Antonio climbed through his window.

He really had been careless. If he had closed the window and latched it, the bastard couldn't have climbed in and he could have just closed the curtains. Looking back, he shouldn't have just opened it for some air. One moment, he had been looking outside, the next he had turned around to get ready for bed and heard something at the window. When he turned around, Antonio had just hopped into the room.

"Antonio," Lovino said, more surprise than anything. How many times had this scenario run through his head until he didn't think about it anymore? Antonio grinned at him through the dim light of the lamp near his bed.

"Romano! I'm here. Come on quickly; I don't know how long we can stay without being seen. Let's go home." When Lovino didn't move, Antonio crossed the space between them and took the older twin's hand, blinking when Lovino shook him away.

"I wasn't expecting to ever see your stupid face ever again."

"I thought Ludwig told you I was coming to get you."

"He did. I meant that in a way that insinuated that you're not supposed to be here."

"A house and a couple of bodyguards aren't going to keep me from my fiancé," Antonio chuckled, trying again for Lovino's hand and was surprised again when Lovino quickly dodged out of the way.

"I meant, I didn't want to see you again."

Antonio dropped his hand, confusion blatantly obvious on his face. "Romano, what happened?"

"That's not my name." He wanted to draw himself up to his full height and face Antonio head on, but the presence of the idiot that had stolen his heart for the first time was unraveling him. He had to keep his distance if he didn't want to be tricked again. It was hard, trying not to fall back into the spell Antonio had him in, with that worried look and genuine…lies. "My name is Lovino."

"Romano? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Do you know where we are?" Lovino gestured to the room, to the house. Antonio looked around, before returning his eyes back to Lovino. "This is _my_ family's house! Didn't you know? They're not dead! They were never dead! And you knew! You knew from the moment you and your ragtag group of liars took me in! When were you ever planning on telling me? _Never_?"

"Romano…"

"No, listen to _me_! All this time, you've lied to me. You told me I was alone in the world and I believed you, so I followed you. What else did you not tell me? Really, I was so stupid that I didn't see through his whole thing. There were so many things I thought that were weird about you three, but I didn't think too much about it since it just seemed so natural. What else, Antonio? Are you going to say you never loved me?"

Antonio opened his mouth to cut in but Lovino had kept going. "Why didn't you ever tell me? Why did you just take me? Did you think I was going to bust you guys? Well, you three deserved it, if I did! But instead of just taking responsibility that you guys screwed up, you just tricked me into playing into your stupid games. Maybe I wouldn't have run back these past few years. Were you just going to marry me and never tell me I still had living relatives? Did you want to keep me in the dark about all this forever?"

"That's not what we were planning…"

"I thought I was something to you, Antonio. I'd understand if Francis or Gilbert wouldn't want you to tell me, or to tell me themselves, but I thought you would at least say something about it. Hint to me about it. But no. I was just your damn cover up. Just a liability keeping you out of jail. I don't want anything to do with you anymore, Antonio. Just go away."

Antonio watched him, looking troubled with the window and the night as his backdrop. Lovino kept his eyes determinedly fixed on the wallpaper, with red poppies and green leaves on white. He wasn't going to look, he wasn't going to look right into Antonio's eyes and tell him to go. "I won't tell on you guys, okay? I promise. I just want to never see you again. Consider yourself completely forgotten, I don't want to even…"

Lovino would have gone on, but Antonio cut him short by grabbing him abruptly and kissing him, pushing him gently against the wall so he couldn't escape. _This bastard thinks I'll give up by this_! Pushing the man away before his insides had a chance to melt and betray him, Lovino quickly scampered out of reach. "What part of 'I don't want to see your goddamn face anymore' don't you understand? I told you; we're over. Just go quietly and I won't make a fuss."

"I told you the moment I found you, I'd propose, Don't you remember?" Elegantly taking a small, velvet box from his pocket as if they were in completely normal circumstances, Antonio knelt before Lovino, taking his hand and slid on the white gold band. "Romano Vargas, I know I haven't been very truthful in many ways, but I never lied about being in love with you. I never intended for you to find out like this; it was just supposed to just go. Romano, I just want to start fresh, will you mar--"

"_I don't want your ring and I don't want to marry you_!" Antonio was just at hand level and in a very convenient position to be punched. The damned bastard didn't go down as Lovino wanted, but staggered slightly before sitting on his heels in front of him, watching him carefully with a flowering bruise on his cheek. "You're making this so difficult! I'm over you! Completely over you! Why can't you just go? You and your stupid ring! You and your stupid friends!" Lovino pulled the ring off his finger and threw it across the room. "Just take everything I have that's yours and just go! I don't want to spend my time with a liar and a thief."

"Romano, please understand, I never meant to hurt you--"

"Well, you did. I'm happy now; and you're not part of that. So unless you want me to call the cops on you, you'd better leave." His eyes were misting over and his voice was wavering and he definitely didn't want Antonio to see him like this. "Take your empty promises and stupid lies and get out of my face. _Now._"

Antonio was good; he was always good at following his instructions. He didn't put up a fight (a fight would have made it all more violent); he just stood and crossed the room, not stopping to make any more excuses, and climbed through the window. Lovino didn't look at him, not even when Antonio sat on the ledge and stared at him for a moment before disappearing out of sight.

It was the glint that caught his eye when he shifted and Lovino scooped up the ring he had thrown across the room. "Bastard…!" He didn't care if Antonio could see it, or could hear him, he crossed to the window and raised his hand to throw the useless piece of junk out into the night – but his hand closed tight around the ring and he couldn't do it.

_I don't love him anymore, I don't, I don't, I don't!_ He had gotten over it; he'd forgotten everything about Antonio, he'd weighed the pros against the cons and logic and common sense told him to drop the whole subject, and he was about to, when this unexpected encounter happened and everything he had fragilely pieced together had fallen apart. He was going to have to start again, piece by piece, and it wasn't going to be any easier now that he had Antonio on the brain and this stupid ring he couldn't get rid of.

"Forget about it. Just forget about it." He stared at the ring, clear gold, and willed himself not to think about it; not to remember that he hid it in the corner of the drawer of his dresser, and pretended that nothing had happened, his eyes were not red as he went to sleep, and he absolutely wasn't still crying when he drifted off.

--

"Buddy..._buddy_…there was nothing you could do."

They had reached Francis's penthouse, a high class loft on the top of a grand apartment complex; wide windows showed them the view of the whole town but no one was interested in the nightlife. Antonio had been silent since they had left the Vargas estate and wouldn't speak, only to explain that Romano had rejected any sort of notion to marriage and any sort of further interaction between the two. Francis was pouring them copious amounts of wine in slender champagne glasses and Gilbert was attempting to do damage control.

"You had it coming…you should have expected it someday. He was going to find out sooner or later, and did you really think he was going to skip back in your arms and accept what you did? Antonio, think about it."

"That's not very constructive," Francis said, frowning slightly as he handed his friends their wine and sat across from them in a leather chair. Honestly; he hadn't had them over in a while and he wanted to show them the newest additions to his abode but now was not the time. The rich always had money in private banks, inaccessible to public records, and he had managed to get them out of pinches before. But no amount of money was going to buy Romano's affection back.

"He didn't call himself that. He went by a completely different name."

"Well, according to the media, Romano wasn't his real name," Francis mused, swirling the wine in his glass. "It was just something we called him and never bothered to correct him."

"Hey, we would have all done things differently," Gilbert shrugged.

Antonio looked up, turning to Gilbert. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, if situations were different, this might have been avoided."

"What sort of situations are you talking about, Gilbert?" Francis asked, feeling as if something important was missing from the conversation.

Gilbert shrugged, looking reluctant to share his thoughts as he downed the wine glass. But Antonio and Francis were still staring intently at him and he wiped his mouth with his hand. "I'm just saying…if it had been _me_, I would have told him something before."

"What do you mean?" Antonio asked, not fully comprehending the weight that came with that statement. Francis watched Gilbert carefully, his brow slightly furrowed.

"I mean, I would have told Romano what's up before I fell for him. But of course, it was already too late. Still…maybe I wouldn't have waited. That's all I'm saying."

"Why would you even imagine that situation?" Francis asked suspiciously. Antonio turned to him, then back to Gilbert. The albino was silent, completely mesmerized by the wine in his glass.

"Francis, what was that supposed to mean?" Antonio asked, helplessly grasping for straws.

"Antonio, I think, and this is purely speculation…but I think Gilbert hasn't been very honest with us."

"About what?"

"Francis," Gilbert said warningly. Antonio turned to him again, his frown making it apparent he was working hard to piece everything together. He was an optimistic person, assume-innocent-until-proven-guilty sort of guy. Francis looked at him, before turning back to Antonio.

"I have to believe, Antonio, that Gilbert indeed has feelings for Romano, as I suspected for a while. I just didn't want to say, so I wouldn't get in the way."

"_What?_" Antonio leapt up, setting the glass down quickly before he spilled it. "Gilbert! Is this true?"

"What, you were too dense to notice?" Gilbert shot back defensively. "If today is Honesty Night, then yes, I do! I have for a while, already! I didn't want to say anything because he was still underage, and by the time he wasn't, you already had your sights set out for him, Tony. What kind of friend just jumps in when someone else already has dibs? I wasn't going to get in the way, especially if he wasn't interested!"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Antonio's mind was reeling from the events that had already happened. This was just adding more fuel to the fire. "All this time…I've left you two alone at home and…"

"_Nothing_ happened!" Gilbert protested, standing as well. "I wasn't going to do anything to make him uncomfortable! I give him that, at least! What did _you_ do? You practically forced yourself on him, with your unnecessary shows of affection before either of you confessed! You were always clingy on him, you know that? News flash, I don't know about Francis, but that disgusted me about you. Acting like he was all _yours_ before it was made official."

"I always wondered why you insisted on me leaving him with you when I went to work, when you were always talking about how much he annoyed you. So that's how it is." Antonio glared at him.

"What do you have to worry about it? Apparently he likes idiots, because he fell for _you_ instead."

There was an uneasy silence, before Francis spoke up again, waving around his empty glass. "I think…I have a confession as well. I met with Matthew a few days ago…and I told him about us. About Romano, about everything. I should have said something; but I told him already."

A moment passed for any anger in the three to surface, but it passed and Gilbert collapsed on the sofa. "Oh, fuck it. If we're all in this boat, let's just sit pretty and wait for them to find us. We can just skip town."

"I'm not leaving without Romano," Antonio insisted, still staring at the ground, his dissatisfaction with Gilbert still edging in his voice.

"I won't go until Matthew gives me his answer," Francis agreed.

The night trickled on, just as the wine flowed freely from the bottle.

To be continued

--

Note: Oh ho. What now? Review, please.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

Background music:

---

They were having tea on the veranda. It was Feliciano's idea, of course; the younger Vargas had insisted that he was going to cook and they were all going to enjoy themselves and do family things. Romulus had readily agreed, and even Ledell had approved. So the four of them were sitting around a little table outside, the weather deciding to play along as well.

"We haven't done anything like this in ages!" Romulus said happily, biting into a fruit tart that Feliciano had taken painstaking hours to carefully arrange to full aesthetic beauty. Ledell was sizing up her husband with cold eyes, tutting to herself as she watched him spread crumbs on the tablecloth. Her tart was eaten neatly with knife and fork.

"Use a napkin, dear," she sniffed, handing one to her husband.

Feliciano giggled, used to seeing these sort of exchanges. His mother and father got along quite well, actually. He glanced over at Lovino as he sipped his tea; his brother was silent and looked utterly downtrodden.

"Is everything okay, Lovino?"

Lovino sighed. "Yes," he deadpanned. "Everything is fine."

"You haven't been yourself for days."

"You haven't known me enough to know when I'm 'myself'. And it's only been two days." Blinking at this part, which contradicted himself, Lovino shook his head. "I was just thinking. Don't about it, dammit. Mind your own business."

There was a light _ding_ from inside the house and Feliciano leapt up, earning everyone's eyes on him. "Ah! The manicotti I was baking is done! I'll get it!" He made his way across the porch, skipping slightly as he disappeared back into the house. He was just standing in front of the oven, waiting to make sure it was nice and brown when Ludwig spoke up.

"Feliciano."

Feliciano looked up, spotting Ludwig near the door. The bodyguard had been standing in the outskirts of the picnic, watching for enemies that weren't there. He had not expected the blonde to follow him in. "Oh! Hi, Ludwig! Would you like to join us? I totally forgot! I left some tea for the servants, but I think it would be nice for you to come eat with us…"

"Have you been avoiding me?"

Feliciano blinked, before fluttering his hands around like a distressed bird. "Avoiding? Why would you think that? You're guarding me, right? So how could I be avoiding you?"

"You haven't been talking to me. And that's unusual for you."

"That's just…it's nothing!" When Germany gave him a serious look, he bit his lip. "It's just…I think…you were talking to your brother…and you didn't tell me…I wouldn't have told mom! If she knew, you'd be fired! And I like you here. With me." His flailings settled to a stop. "I just want you to be honest with me, that's all."

"Is that all?"

"Yup! Oh, and now Lovino's being open again I've been trying to spend time with him as a brother! I used to have you to be with, and now I also have him! Oh! I hope you weren't getting lonely without me…oh! The manicotti!" Like a frantic chef, Feliciano opened the oven, the heat coming out in waves. With one swift motion, he slid the glass pan out and set it on the stove, blowing on his hands. "It'll burn if I don't take it out!"

He was bustling around to get the oven glove when Ludwig stepped forward. "I'll take it out, don't worry about it…"

"Ah! Watch out, it's hot!"

And it was; Ludwig lifted it for a few moments before setting it down, wincing in discomfort. His hands were raw red. Feliciano squealed before diving for the fridge, scrambling around for a packet of diced carrots and hurrying over to put them in Ludwig's hands. "Here! To cool them off! Ooh, don't you hate it when that happens to you?" Feliciano cocooned Ludwig's hands around the carrot packet. "How does it feel?"

"Like pins and needles." Ludwig stared down at his smoldering hands, then to the fact that Feliciano's hands were around his, and when he looked up to say something about it, Feliciano leapt up and kissed him, the heat around his mouth completely distracting him from the pain in his hands.

--

He couldn't hold them off anymore. He'd told them he couldn't get the confession, Francis was busy…until finally, Arthur took the phone from his babbling brother and said point black, "Matthew, I have reason to believe that you've already gotten the confession. Now we'd like to listen to it, if you don't mind."

Arthur could command a presence; Matthew supposed it was why his brother listened to him so much. So he said they could come over in the afternoon, to which his brother whooped loudly in the background. This had led him to his position now: sitting in front of the tape.

He had listened, rewinded, and replayed the confession a dozen times, but no matter how many times he listened to Francis's smooth voice say those words over and over, there was no denying it was rather incriminating. There was no loophole to get around "We also picked up a kid – Lovino Vargas."

The machinery was not as complex as Alfred made it look. Matthew had unassembled the recording device and taken out the little tape of confession. He thought the police had electronic copies now, but he guessed the detective-for-hire program wasn't government endorsed.

It was to his advantage, though. He'd found the tape was the exact same size as the ones the recording studio carried.

Still, the thought of what he was going to do was terrifying. He didn't break rules. He didn't act out. Alfred was the one who talked, who made the scene. He was the one who stayed back, sat pretty, and pretended nothing was the matter. Matthew gulped, pressing his glasses further up his nose and ran his fingers through his hair.

The tapes were absolutely the same.

What was on them were different.

Just a simple switcheroo. Just like that. And the fact that he'd thought up the whole scheme meant he was rather serious about Francis.

Francis had shown him complete kindness, enough to be more than genuine. He believed the man would not go on the wrong side of the law again; yes, he had kidnapped the boy, but the boy was safe and sound with his family now, right? No mental problems, no physical disabilities. Everything was fine – no one had been hurt, so who did the whole thing shouldn't be a big problem, right? It was just a case of returning a library book…twelve years late. The press was no longer looking into the issue (the Vargas family had somehow the power to shut everything up). It was a closed case.

Still…wasn't this wrong?

Before he could second guess himself, he popped the studio tape into the recording device and made his way to the window overlooking the road to the college. Taking a deep breath, Matthew chucked the tape outside onto the road. He watched as it hit the asphalt, cracking painfully and staying in a piece of plastic and broken information.

Just his luck, here came a car! It ran over the tape, utterly obliterating it. Still, as it drove away, leaving a pancake of a tape, Matthew figured it wouldn't be wise to leave it around. Knowing his brother and his partner, they'd be snooping around after they'd heard the tape. Rushing downstairs, he quickly collected the last of the pieces and hurried to a dumpster and closed his eyes as he dropped it down.

There. He had just become an accomplice to a crime.

It was kind of fun actually.

--

Even after the hangover was over, they were still faced with a glaring fact.

"What should we do?"

"If we stay, we run the risk of getting discovered," Gilbert reasoned. "On the other hand, you two aren't willing to throw away what we've done. So I guess…we just pretend nothing happened and go about our lives. If anyone sketchy comes up to us, we run."

"I've got to go to work," Antonio said bluntly.

So he collected his things, got dressed, and set out for the restaurant. It was shocking, really, what happened to him these past few days. Romano had been taken back by his parents and now wanted nothing to do with him anymore. Not only had he lost his fiancé, but Gilbert revealed that he'd had feelings for Romano all this time. And Francis had confessed everything to a complete stranger in their lives. They were walking on thin ice. He had wanted to run as well.

But…Romano. Romano just beckoned to him, no matter where he was. He couldn't just abandon that endeavor. He'd wanted to marry the boy. Somehow he'd manage to do that. How, when Romano was refusing to see him…well…

"Yo! Hey, Ton_ay_!" He had been deep in thought while carrying glasses of water out to a table when he heard that voice. Setting it down a the completely wrong table, Antonio dried his hands on his pants before grinning and opening his arms.

"Charles!"

"You jokester. It's Charlie!" Laughing, his old friend walked right through the store on three inch heels like she owned the place, throwing her arms around him in the warmest hug. The ribbon around her hair was polka-dotted today. "I haven't seen you in ever! How ya been, buddy?"

"It could be better, Charlie. Where's Ned?"

"In the back, parking! Boy, my dear Spanish friend, we have not talked in ages. Ever since the marriage! I can't believe you couldn't make it! It was wonderful. Wonderful flowers and music and everything. Then guess where we honeymooned?"

"Where?"

"Belgium, of course!" Giggling, she sank into an empty chair and crossed her legs very professional. Her nails were electric pink, Antonio noticed. But such as Charlie; just that kind of girl-next-door kind of girl. Although she was married, she hardly acted tied down. "And then we backpacked to Amsterdam and stayed a few days in France. Whoo! Oh! Ned! Over here!"

The man who had entered, a stoic looking man with wild hair, spotted them and walked over. "Hey, Antonio." Smiling, he reached out his hand and Antonio shook it, grinning back. "So! What do you want? It's on the house."

"No way, man! We've got cash!" Charlie pulled out her wallet, a dainty little thing with a puppy charm hanging off it. "Sit your butt down, Eddy. You haven't seen Antonio in ages too! You don't got work to do, right?"

Antonio glanced around; the boss was out, and there were other waiters who were tending to the tables he'd abandoned. They shot him dirty looks, but Charlie's positive attitude was infectious; they didn't complain. Shrugging, he shook his head and pulled up a chair.

"So Tony, what's up with ya? Where's the other boys?"

"Home. What about you? How's married life treating you?"

"It's wonderful! Isn't it, Ed?" Charlie nudged Ned from across the table, smiling mischievously. "It's like discovering that there's a rank above best friends. We're beyond that sort of thing. But it's not like we're 'married'. More like, we're in this together! Right?"

"Lots of laundry," Ned shrugged, opening the menu and giving Charlie a pointed look as she made a mock-angry face. "Especially when your spouse would prefer talking over working."

"Hey!"

Antonio laughed. "That sounds awesome, you two. You know, I was going to get married too."

"Ooh! To whom? I have to meet this girl. What gives, man? You don't even send me a wedding invite? I'm insulted!"

"You've met him. The boy you met last time."

"_What? _That rude little thing? Cute, though. Hold, you said you _were_ going to get married? What does that mean?" Charlie reached over and gripped Antonio's wrist with a death grip. Even Ned seemed to be listening over the cream colored menu. "What happened?"

"Well…he…sort of got cold feet."

"_Eh_? The little shit! Rejecting _you_! You know, if Ned here didn't steal my heart first, I'd a gone for you. But Eddy…you're the one for me." Giggling like a newlywed, Charlie batted Ned's hand.

"You can have her," Ned retorted, rolling his eyes. "She's too much of a handful." He yelped when she grabbed the menu and started swatting him with. "Just kidding, Char!"

"Anyway," Charlie said, setting the menu down and turning back to Antonio, "why don't you let me talk to him? I'm sure I could set him out right. God, you owe me one."

Antonio hadn't been surprised that Charlie didn't question the whole marriage thing. She had never been one to bat her eyelashes at things out of the ordinary like that. It was the reason why she was so…unique herself. She waved a waiter over and briskly ordered a scotch and soda on the rocks and let Ned fend for himself. "So Tony, where can I talk to him?"

"I…would rather you not." It was too hasslesome to explain the whole not-being-there thing. Charlie's face fell.

"I came just to see you and you reject me? Fine. But I expect to be at your wedding." Grinning, she hit him in the arm. "Because it's going to happen, you know. You're a fine catch. He'll come to his senses sooner or later." She blinked when the waiter who had taken their order took her menu and walked away. "Ned? What did you order for me?"

"Poached liver and lizard eggs."

"High end!"

"You wish. You're having a salad. Because you're fat."

Antonio laughed and leaned out of the way as Charlie attempted to slaughter her husband with a salt shaker. These things were completely normal. It sort of made him forget that the wedding was off kilter, especially when he'd gone home and discovered one of the rings of the matching set was missing. He didn't remember when he'd dropped it, but he'd have to find that first. Meanwhile, he probably should have stepped in before Ned started throwing sugar packets at Charlie, who retaliated with stealing his silverware.

--

Note: Charlotte-call-me-Charlie Belgium is my favorite personification of her. Honestly. Don't hate. I'm a Netherlands/Belgium fangirl. Also, don't hate. It's one of my few hetero pairings I ship. Badass!Canada is canon. I actually came up with an ending to this fic. It's very…inadequate. Thanks for listening to me rant. Review, please.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

Background music: --

Arthur was not amused. For the record, neither was Alfred, but Alfred didn't show it as much.

"You recorded yourself _singing_." Arthur grounded out, twirling the tape between his fingers as he glared at Matthew. "Instead of getting a confession, you get us a _song_? And it's not a song that reveals anything. Just a _song_."

"I must have recorded the wrong thing," Matthew shrugged. Arthur growled and slapped the tape on the counter before storming off to a corner of the apartment to fully unload. Alfred slipped into his seat and faced his brother.

"Matthew…what happened?"

"I recorded the wrong thing."

"Matthew. You know what I mean. This doesn't help us at all. If there was something important that you've hidden from us, you're impeding the law."

"Yeah, well, you don't know what he said, do you? So you've got nothing on him, and you've got nothing on me." Matthew held back from smiling smugly. This was very much unlike him and personally, it was sort of scaring him.

"It's a dead end!" Arthur shouted.

"Fine, whatever. You've chosen your alliances, Mattie. We can't help that." Alfred didn't seem too upset, which sort of troubled Matthew. What was that about? "I guess we'll just have to nip it in the bud and analyze the kid. I wanted to do that from the start! It's much more fun to listen to a kidnap victim anyway!"

"You're a bloody wanker!" Arthur turned on his heel and went for the door. "I'm going to get some coffee and you talk some sense into your brother, Alfred!" With a slam and identical winces from the twins, Arthur left the apartment.

"So really, little brother. Just _how_ close were you to Bonnefoy?"

"What are you talking about?" Matthew wrinkled his nose. Alfred smiled knowingly as he picked up the tape and started playing with it.

"You know, Mattie! You two must have been pretty hot and heavy for each other if you're willing to put yourself on a limb for him. Err, Mattie. I wouldn't have expected this from you!"

"Shut up, Alfred." Mattie rolled his eyes, his face flushing nonetheless.

"Forgetting that, I need your help." Alfred leaned forward on the counter and Matthew got the feeling they were playing pirates or something, talking about secret plans. He was on a roll of being someone else today, so he played along. "Arthur and I…we're not going anywhere."

"Okay…"

"I just…I'm not taking your advice or anything!...but could you help me? Be…more…you know…_honest_?"

Matthew raised an eyebrow, leaning to one side to inspect his brother, who was looking sheepish. "Making a move, Alfred? Finally?"

"Yeah, and how would you think I should seduce him?"

"Seduce?" Matthew burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, but Alfred…I think it's the other way around. You can't seduce someone. But Arthur seduced you, I believe." He shook his head, as Alfred pouted indignantly. "I can't help you with that. Francis and I were…pretty honest from the get-go."

"A-ha! So you admit it! Too bad that doesn't hold well in court. Damn. So you've got nothing?"

"Nope. But I think if you keep playing the game the way you're going, it'll be okay. I think it should just come naturally. Although sometimes you can be stupid and annoying, people like you anyway."

"Really?!"

Arthur chose this moment to storm in again, breaking up the brother-to-brother conversation, and before he could go and chew off Matthew's ear some more, Alfred somehow convinced him to leave for the Vargas house with him. Matthew was just settling into a relieved mode when Alfred winked at him. Some sort of trade off, for helping him, he was getting an extremely pissed off Brit out of his hands.

It wasn't very fair, as he hadn't said anything actually useful, but this was a battle Matthew allowed himself to win.

Because she was getting sick of listening to her husband write poetry about how lovely the day was, and her oldest son was still moping about something quietly, and her youngest son was no where to be found, Ledell personally answered the door herself. She was quite close to slamming it closed again in Arthur and Alfred's faces.

"What do you gentlemen want?" she asked in a very polite albeit finished tone.

"We wanna talk to your oldest son," Alfred said bluntly, before Arthur could get any greetings out. "We've waited long enough and we've got no leads and his testimony against these kidnappers you want so dearly to be brought to justice would bring us closer to our common goal."

Ledell opened her mouth to reprimand them and tell them to leave when it struck her; she did indeed hire them and had forgotten about them – and the fact that Lovino was finally opening up but not admitting to her who had stolen him years ago…well, perhaps she had nothing to lose. "Very well," she said briskly. "But his is not allowed to be put out as bait for the sharks."

"No way, broad!" Alfred grinned as he let himself in, breezing past her as he led himself into the foyer. Arthur politely nodded at her and followed him in. "So, where is this charming son of yours who we have not yet actually seen?"

"He's in the back, with my useless husband. I'll show you there."

Quickly regaining control, she led the two throughout the house in the shortest way to the veranda. This included a stop in the kitchen, which first she noticed the smell of cooling manicotti, then to her found youngest son, who had quickly jumped away from hired bodyguard Ludwig in a very suspicious manner. "Oh! Mom! I totally forgot! Oh, we have guests? Hi!"

Alfred waved cheerfully. Ledell glared at him, then back at Ludwig. "I hope things were kept very…professional here?"

Ludwig coughed into his hand. "Of course, ma'am." She did not ask why he was holding a package of thawing carrot bits. Instead, she walked out to the porch, where Romulus was still dictating an ode to the sun while Lovino listened listlessly.

"Romulus, shut your trap and stay that way. Lovino, I want you to come with me and meet these men." Lovino turned to her, showing no interest, although he stood and followed her back in the house. Feliciano tottered by, holding the manicotti and shooting a meaningful look at his brother, who glared at him briefly. Ledell pretended not to notice and arrived at a parlor overlooking the grounds.

"Sit, please," she instructed, adding the 'please' as an afterthought. "Now I'd like to introduce you. Lovino, this is Alvin Smith and this is Arthur Kirkland."

"Actually, my name's Alf…"

"I hired them to find the people who kidnapped you. It's about time you met them. You two, this Lovino Vargas, my eldest son." Ledell nodded satisfactedly, looking at both parties; Alfred and Arthur sitting across from Lovino. "I hope you'll have a pleasant talk. I will be outside if you need me. This room is not bugged, so I will not know what you have spoken about." That last bit wasn't at all comforting and Alfred shot her a look as she retreated and closed the door behind her.

"Actually, like I was saying before, I'm _Alfred F. Jones_ and…"

"Do you feel any sort of loyalty to the people who kidnapped you? Any at all?" Arthur leapt straight into interviewer mode. "If we were to show you pictures of suspects, would you identify them?"

"No, but only because you're being such a mother."

"Yes! I told you so, Arthur!"

Arthur glared at Alfred. "You're not helping, you git. Don't you remember what we're here for?"

"We're here to talk to him, Arthur, not grill him on the case. God forbid we make him clam up on us."

"If you're here to play good-cop-bad-cop, that's not going to work. They tried on me already." Lovino gestured toward the closed door. "I've got nothing to say on the topic at all."

Arthur threw up his hands and sat back, studying Lovino, who gave him a satisfied look. Really, who was his mother kidding? She couldn't get the answers she liked out of him and she'd hired these fools to try and weasel it out of him? Well, he wasn't going to fall for it. He'd already made up his mind not to sell out those (bastardly) three.

Although, really, he wanted to rat out Antonio, because that meant that the bastard would be behind bars and would stay out of his life. He was miserable enough as it was without seeing that idiot.

He'd have to change his thought process. First, he'd have to get Antonio out of his mind. Since he'd fallen in love with that asshole, he'd have to fall for someone else. He hadn't been exposed to too many people, and the servants here were uninteresting.

He wouldn't really mind…trying this Alfred person out, though.

"Maybe you should stand in the corner, Arthur," Alfred was saying. "Let us take care of things. I don't think he feels comfortable with a grandpa listening in." He gave Arthur a look and the Brit huffed loudly before storming up and walking over to a bookshelf. Honestly. If he knew he wasn't going to be getting anything done, he wouldn't have taken this case.

"C'mere. I won't bite." Alfred patted the seat next to him and was a bit surprised when Lovino actually went and sat next to him. He was going to pretend this mood change from sulky to somewhat cheerful in this boy wasn't strange at all. "I know you're done hearing all this stupid talk about capturing guys. I know how you feel. I mean, I've got all sorts of better cases. You're a case that's supposed to be done, you know! You're back, you're safe. I'd leave it alone too. I mean, we've got children molesters to catch, you know."

"Really? How are your other cases?"

"Loads of fun!" Alfred was unabashed about his interest in other cases. Lovino looked interested too at any case. He was leaning closer and smiling. Arthur never really gave a crap about what he had to say. "Like there was this one time when this little girl had been snatched. There was this sexual offender close by her house, you know, so everyone was worried she'd been snatched by that guy. Me and Arthur went over and had a talk with him and I was sure he hadn't done it. I mean, the guy already had a clean record for a few years and he didn't have any signs that he'd taken the girl. Turns out, after a few scouts and observations, her uncle had taken her! You see, the guy never was happy with how his sister married and was trying to 'save' the girl from the father. Weird, right? I know! But we caught him, and we did it when even the cops were baffled."

"That sounds impressive. You're pretty good." Lovino put a hand on his arm. Alfred was a bit thrown off by this, but he figured friendliness wasn't going to be opposed. After all, his father and brother were nice too.

"Yeah…it's the same here, really. We just want to know who took you. We've got a few files…you could take a look and see if you could ID any of them…"

"How old are you? You hardly look older than me and you sound like you've done this for a long time…I couldn't do it, that's for goddamn sure."

"I'm twenty-four. What about you?"

"Nineteen."

"Whoa, really? You got any plans of what you want to do?"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "No. Who at my age does? We're still just drinking around, smoking it up, being wiseasses and just fucking around. Even someone like me knows that."

Alfred laughed. "You know, I think you could intern at my place. We've got a few openings, and you'd be invaluable at cracking suspects. I mean, you've got personal experience…not to exploit you or anything, but I'm just saying. You could probably help us out a lot!"

"Would I get to know you better?" Urg, he was good. Alfred looked at him.

"I…guess so. I mean, we'd be working in the same department. I wouldn't mind; you seem like a cool kid to begin with. Nothing like your creepshow of a mother. No offense or anything."

"None taken. I don't know her well enough to feel insulted." He moved closer, knocking their shoulders together. He could get used to this.

Like an unannounced hurricane, Arthur flew into the scene, grabbing Alfred by the shoulder and pulling him to his feet. "We're leaving, _now_." Giving Lovino a strained smile, Arthur kept his hold on Alfred as he dragged him toward the door. "My partner and I have to reorganize some things. We'll show ourselves out. It was nice meeting you."

"Bye!" Alfred called cheerfully, waving. Lovino smiled coyly back, saluting. The door wasn't even closed behind them yet when he heard Alfred protest in a half-shout, half-whisper, "What's that about, Arthur? I was getting close to talking to him!"

Antonio was finished with his shift; catching up with Charlie and Ned was fun and he'd shown them off. They would be staying a nearby hotel – they were vacationing and Charlie assured Antonio that she felt a wedding was on the horizon; it would be his, and she'd have to stay for that. He was currently watering the many shrubs outside the door (aesthetic purposes, they were big and bushy) when he heard two voices come down the street, in a heated discussion.

"…don't know _what_ you're playing at, you bloody cow. Fraternizing like that with the victim! I don't know if I should be angry or ashamed at you."

"What are you talking about, Arthur? I wasn't doing anything like that!"

"He was flirting with you, you blind asshole! And I know you knew! But you didn't do anything. You just let it happen. Have you forgotten what we're here for? You can't just let him get to you like that!"

"Well, what're you going to do about it? If he likes me, I don't have control over that. Get over yourself. You're just jealous the Vargas kid doesn't like you."

Antonio froze up at the mention of the name 'Vargas'. Shrinking back into the shadows, he waited with baited breath as the two men walked past the door; but they had stopped, apparently still in argument.

"Are you implying that you're interested in him? We're supposed to keep this professional. Do you think you're going to be some sort of hero? Because he was kidnapped, you can just whisk yourself in there and somehow 'save' him from the trauma he faced? What is this? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

They were talking about Romano! But also…about Romano _flirting_ with someone else? Antonio tried to get a good peek through the bushes; but he could only see sneaks of blonde hair. Who were these people? They were mentioning something about professional and victims…were they cops?

"I'm not _implying_ anything, Arthur. You're just making up things in your head because nothing's happening that's involving you. And just for the record, _if_ the Vargas kid _is_ interested in me, I wouldn't mind at all; he's a much better catch than _you_, that's for sure."

There was a loud sound of anger (Antonio had been very learned in this area, hearing that sort of sounds from Romano for years) and a man rushed by him, walking very fast, too fast to even notice him. He caught a sight of a peacoat and thick eyebrows before he was gone – suddenly, another blonde ran past him, apparently chasing the other.

So _that_ was his rival? A blonde idiot in glasses and a bomber jacket? Antonio wasn't sure what to think. He didn't want to believe that Romano had stooped so low, but then again, he wasn't the best of the best either. Actually, the more he was thinking about it, the more he wanted to see Romano again, but he didn't want to be turned away again.

Antonio was not aware he had started to water his own shoe until the water soaked into his socks and made an ugly squelching sound when he moved. It was like him: sad, soggy, and miserable, never mind he wasn't really soggy and two of those words meant the same thing.

Note: PLEASE SPARE ME! Time discrepancies. I KNOW. The conversation between Alfred and Mattie took place during the teatime at the Vargas house. These sort of things jump around. It's not because I was lax in making sure everything flowed right. I was never going to have Mattie sell Francis out. I love Franada too much. But yes I did just suggest America/Romano. I actually like that pairing.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

Background music: --

Lovino never knew how much effort it took to try and seduce someone. He'd disappeared off in his room, about to take an afternoon nap (they were rather nice without being woken up by Gilbert or bother...bothered by Antonio) when his little brother burst in.

"Lovino!" Feliciano was breathless and flushed, closing the door behind him and twirling around until he tackled his brother into the bed. "Vee~!"

"What is it _now_, you idiot?"

"Guess what? Guess what, guess what, guess what?"

"What is it?"

"I'll give you a hint. It involves close facial contact and Ludwig." His face was shining so much Lovino thought for a moment it might be something positive. But his face darkened, glaring at Feliciano.

"Ew. You did not."

"I did!" Feliciano squealed, rolling off his brother onto his back to face the ceiling. "It was _wonderful_. He'd burned his hands and I was giving him some ice to cool them down and…" Another breathy sigh that Lovino found irritating. He hoped he hadn't sighed like that when he was with Antonio. Damn. Getting off topic. "It was my first kiss."

"Hmm."

"What?" Feliciano sat up, cocking his head with a grin still clear on his face. "You're not impressed."

"Given that you're my little brother and I don't really like that guy, I can't feel very happy for you."

"But Lovino…isn't a first kiss wonderful? Doesn't it mean anything?"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "It's nothing special at all."

"Ooh! You've had yours, then? Tell me about it! Was it sweet?" Feliciano jumped up, scooting closer to Lovino as if they were going to exchange secrets or crushes or something mundane and girly like that. "Tell me! How was it?"

"It's _my_ first kiss, and I don't want to tell you about it."

"If you don't, I'll have to assume you're lying and you actually haven't had it yet."

"I did!"

"Then tell me about it!"

Lovino turned away but Feliciano would not relent; besides jumping, he nudged, urged, and made various squealing sounds until the older twin had enough. "Alright! Shut up already! I'll tell you about it. But you can't say anything or interrupt me or sigh or stupid things like that. I don't even want to remember it. Just shut up."

There had never really been a confession. Romano had been too embarrassed and stubborn to admit anything and Antonio had been too dense to realize anything he felt unless someone spelled it out for him. At least, that's what Romano told himself; the thought of Antonio actually liking him back and worrying about spending time with him was enough to make him a little insane. There were no dates, no talk about dinner besides special occasions, and anyway, Gilbert was always around, hanging about suspiciously as if he was waiting for something to happen.

Surprisingly that night, Francis had taken Gilbert out to listen to some college concert thing and the apartment was empty except for the two of them. They had a nice dinner (complete with Romano cleverly managing to insult every single dish Antonio made although they tasted completely delicious). They were enjoying each other's company. They had run out of things to do.

"We could watch television," Antonio said slowly, and Romano didn't want to know what else he had been planning. Some sort of board game? That Friday night didn't exactly scream thrills. So they turned on the device and sat next to each other.

Romano couldn't really remember what they had been watching, only remembering that as the minutes ticked past, he found himself gravitating closer and closer to Antonio until their shoulders touched. Of course, this was nothing new; anyone sitting on the couch always found themselves invading the personal space of whoever was sitting with them. Still, if someone was in the situation that Romano was in, it was an awkward deal. It was not a big deal; he was eighteen and the adopted little brother of the trio. Antonio was just like family, nothing to worry about at all.

Except for the fact that he turned to Antonio and tipped his head, and when the Spaniard turned to him, he leaned up and kissed him on the mouth. And maybe mouth-to-mouth kissing was normal in families, except Antonio had reached over and wrapped him up in a warm embrace, their mouths still connected like joints. The television and its program was completely forgotten as Romano reached his arms up and around Antonio's neck, bringing them both down on the couch.

Okay, so he'd also gotten to second base on his first kiss attempt, but that wasn't relevant. At all. Or the fact that they'd gotten so hot that they had to stop for a bit to catch their breath. And then resume. There were no words exchanged; enough was said. They didn't stop until the door jiggled and Francis returned with a slightly tipsy Gilbert, at which the two insisted they had been doing nothing to watching television and it was an ungodly hour and what exactly was Gilbert trying to say other than sock puppets were perverted?

"Ooh! That's so romantic! Antonio sounds like such a nice guy!"

Shit, he hadn't been aware that he'd used actual names. And while they were talking about sudden realizations, Lovino caught himself feeling a little light-headed thinking about Antonio. This wasn't good. He'd promised himself he'd gotten over him and he was currently working on…what was that boy's name again…

"You can't tell anyone," Lovino reminded, shooting him a look while he frantically wracked his brain to recall the name, the only name coming to mind being _Antonio, Antonio, Antonio_.

"I won't! Remember, these are between us! Oh, I'm jealous! Ludwig and I didn't get that far. He just kissed me really nicely, no tongue or anything. I mean, we pecked a couple more times before mo…Ledell came in. Ooh, I can't ever remember to call her by her name. Can you?"

Seeing as he had never referred to her as 'mother', he couldn't see the problem. "Don't you sometimes…want to leave? I mean, you always talk like you're planning on staying with your…_our_ parents forever. Don't you want to go anywhere? Like…with Ludwig or something?" He made a face at the suggestion.

Feliciano stared at him. "I haven't really thought about that. I always thought I'd be here. Family is everything, isn't it? I'm happy here."

"Yeah but…it's better if you're away from them for a while. It's nice without parents." Lovino knew his voice was getting nostalgic. He still couldn't remember that blonde boy's name. He couldn't actually quite recall what he even looked like. Antonio was taking over and for the time being, he let him. Curling up against the pillows, he stared up at the corner. "It's sort of…liberating."

"I mean, I guess I could think of it. What's it like? Without a mom or a dad?"

"It's…different. It's kind of hard to explain it to someone who hasn't felt it yet. It's like me coming here to live with you guys. It's weird. Like…there's no one to watch you, and you can do whatever you want, but then you've got to take care of yourself too…"

"Ooh! So I could make whatever I want and I don't have to be quiet?"

"Right."

Feliciano looked up dreamily, the two brothers staring listlessly in the air. "That sounds great. Hey, tell you what! I think you should take me to meet these friends of yours! They sound like loads of fun!"

Lovino stared back at him, his turn to look disapproving. "You say that, but you don't really want to meet them. I don't want to see them again. Even if you weren't going to turn them in. They lied to me." No, he had to chase Antonio away. A…Alfred. Yes! That was his name. Alfred F. Jones. And that annoying other guy. He'd have to talk to them again soon.

Feliciano's face fell. "Oh. But I really want to know who Antonio is. What he's like. You've obviously fallen for him so hard! I can see it in your face."

"I don't like him anymore."

"Really? You looked like you still did…"

"Look…can we talk about something else? God forbid; if there's really nothing else to go on, please tell me about you and Ludwig. Yuck. I can't believe I'm actually going to talk about this. Go on. Whatever."

"Okay!" Feliciano clapped his hands. "I'll tell _you_ a story now! About how we first met!"

Feliciano had never been watched the same after Lovino was kidnapped. Not only did Ledell never let him out of her sight, but she became distrustful of him going outside alone. Of course, he continued with his schooling, but rarely saw a moment before or after school that his parents weren't there. This continued on, this close observation, until Feliciano started high school.

"Teachers in upper grades don't keep such a close eye on their students," Ledell had challenged Romulus. "Back in grade school, we could trust the school to watch over him; but now, he's got more freedom and no one will notice if he was suddenly snatched."

It was decided a bit after he turned fifteen that there needed to be some sort of bodyguard. That itself wasn't unusual; the private high school that Feliciano attended had more than a few students with overly concerned parents as well. The next problem presented itself in the form of picking the bodyguard.

No one could be too old (could easily be incapacitated) or too young (could easily be bribed). Definitely no criminal record, must be completely business-oriented. Trustworthy, protective, and secret-keeping. Feliciano listened as his parents interviewed various applicants.

One day after school when Romulus picked him up, Ledell was waiting for him. "We've found our guy," she said shortly. "He's young, but reliable. I think you two might get along." Curious, Feliciano followed her to the courtyard. A stoic blonde man was standing alone, looking around.

"Mr. Weillschmidt! Come meet my son."

At the call, the man turned and curtly walked over, bowing slightly. Instinctively, Feliciano bowed back, only to be caught halfway by his mother, who yanked him back up by the collar. "Feliciano, this is Ludwig Weillschmidt. He's twenty-four and has been in the police academy until he was recognized for his good work and branched off to personal guarding. Mr. Weillschmidt, this is Feliciano Vargas, my son and the one I expect you to risk your life for."

"Hello."

"I'll leave you two alone to talk. Mr. Weillschmidt, you may collect your things and bring them back here afterwards." Sweeping away dignified, Ledell left them alone.

"So…hi there! I hope this isn't too much trouble!"

"Of course not." Ludwig was stiff, Feliciano noticed. It wouldn't do for someone to be impersonal around him. He'd have to start making friends with him! "Your mother told me I would be making sure that no harm would come upon you. I have heard that your brother is still missing."

"Yup. But I'm not worried at all. I'm just sort of concerned that you'll find me boring! Nothing ever happens to me."

"I'm sure things happen to you. And I assure you that you won't bore me."

Feliciano smiled up at him, the fragile-shy way he knew how. "Can we be friends?"

Ludwig blinked. "Of course."

Feliciano squealed; Lovino instinctively reached for his ears. "See? See? Wasn't that just the perfect beginning? It was like a match made in heaven. We were fated to be together since the day we met." Feliciano looked so sincere that Lovino knew it would crush his dreams to state the obvious.

But he did anyway.

"It doesn't seem like that from what you've just told me."

"Because you're not romantic anymore!" Feliciano insisted, glomping his brother. "Ever since you've gotten here you've been rejecting everything that you had, even that nice, nice guy Antonio! I don't really know what's going on still, but really! If it's love, it's love, right?"

"Get off me."

"Yup," Feliciano maintained, as if Lovino hadn't said anything. "If you've ever loved someone, you've got to try and work things out before giving up on them. You can't just let one little thing mess everything up, especially if you've known them for ages."

"What if it's different?" Feliciano backtracked at Lovino's voice. His brother was rarely quiet and hesitant like this. "What if he'd lied to you?"

"Hmm? What about?"

"Everything. Everything you thought was true."

"Did he mean anything? Did he mean it when he said he loved you? Was he real about everything else?"

"Everything. Everything but that." Lovino was retreating into the pillows. Feliciano tried to pull him away.

"We all make mistakes, brother. I'm sure you've hurt him before too. But he's forgiven you for that too. He was planning on getting married to you, right? I don't know about you, but I've never heard of someone marrying someone they kidnapped. I think he was willing to do that for you. Have you let him apologize or explain yourself? He must be worried sick about you."

"I said I was over him. I'm _supposed_ to be over him." Lovino bit his lip, staring at the comforter. "Why is it so hard to get over someone?"

"It should be." Feliciano smiled as he hugged his twin. "It should be, unless you never had any feelings for them in the first place."

"Mrs. Vargas, you have mail."

Ledell stretched her legs out in the parlor room. She'd left Romulus sleeping out in the sun with cream on his face to settle to reading her latest novel indulgence. A butler was holding out a cream-colored envelope to her, with the logo of a phone company on the left side.

"Ah, yes. I've been waiting for this. Thank you. Please fetch Mr. Weillschmidt." The butler bowed and left to find the bodyguard as Ledell sliced open the envelope with one of her long fingernails.

When Ludwig came in, he walked into Ledell staring out at the window with a long spidery Audrey-Hepburnesque pipe from her mouth, balanced on careful fingers. He stood at the door, silently, as she blew a perfect smoke ring.

"It looks like you haven't been very honest about some things, Mr. Weillschmidt. And I hate liars."

To Be Continued

Note: Someone said before they thought another chapter was filler. Sadly, this is another one. UTTER SHAMELESS FILLER AND FLUFF. I don't know what I was thinking. I mean, it sort of is relevant. It definitely plants some ideas in Feli's head for next chapter. I also fail at America/Romano, even thought it's one of my favorite cracks. ARG DAMN IT.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: : The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

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"…so you move this lever thing to 'D'. D for drive. Keep your foot on the brake! …alright, alright…ease it…ease into it…let it run a bit…you're doing fine!"

Somehow, in the whole interrogation and kidnapper-finding business, driving lessons were involved. More or less, this meant that Lovino had commented about the car that Alfred and Arthur arrived in, which resulted in a conversation about cars and driving abilities, where Alfred was shocked to learn that Lovino didn't know how to drive.

"Learning to drive is a human right!" he established loudly. "Right, Arthur?"

Arthur, it seemed, wasn't on speaking terms with Alfred, as the two instantly fell back in the sulking mess they'd gotten into. Despite the older man's exasperated expression, Alfred had led Lovino into the car and was attempting to teach him how to drive.

"This doesn't seem so hard," Lovino muttered, tapping the gas pedal with his foot experimentally, sending the car forward in short bursts. Alfred didn't seem to have a problem at all.

"Hey," the blonde detective said suddenly, "why don't we drive to the town? It'll be perfect practice and it seems like you've been cooped up here for ages. Okay? We'll get some fresh air and get back here."

"I don't think my mother would be okay with that."

"You're freakin' nineteen, boy! She'll have to deal with it." Grinning, Alfred was radiating confidence. "And besides, I'll be with you, so no big sweat."

"That's true." Was that a flirtatious smile? Alfred didn't know; but Arthur kept saying it was, and Arthur was right about most things.

"That's wasting time," Arthur called from the steps, looking grumpy. "And she told us we weren't supposed to let him roam around."

"Put it back in park while I explain to my bushy-browed superior to give you a break." Leaping out of the car and jogging over, Alfred walked up to Arthur, who seemed determined to keep his silence and poker face. "Hey, it's not just any drive. You know as well as I do that this kid knows that town better than we do. But it's bigger than just a little town drive. He'll go to the places he's familiar with, which will probably lead us to the kidnappers. At least, we'll be able to get a better grip on our suspicions. Right?"

Arthur didn't want to admit the plan was a decent one. "I'll ride in the back."

"No way! He's not going to ease up if there's a grandpa in the car! And anyway, I can handle a nineteen-year-old." Alfred pouted, before noticing Arthur turn away angrily. "What? I already said I was sorry for that quip about you being a horrible companion. You can't hold a grudge like that."

"You know what I'm angry about."

"So what if the kid likes me?" Alfred lowered his voice, but Lovino was too preoccupied with the car to eavesdrop anyway. "It's strictly business. I don't fall for people I work with."

"That doesn't make it sound better," Arthur grumbled, although Alfred didn't catch that.

"Anyway, just keep your pretty little ass here and hold back that broad if she tries to chase us." Patting Arthur on the cheek rather patronizingly, Alfred grinned and leapt down the stairs again and into the passenger seat. "So…you turn the wheel where you want to go…and press the gas…don't press to heavy at first…!"

But Lovino showed he was a born driver, easily shifting into gear and rocketing out the driveway like he'd been driving his entire life, albeit at much higher speeds than normal beginners. Arthur watched the dust clear and made a face.

Antonio had been out and about so many times (for his job, for life purposes, for looking for rings) that he knew the town back and forth. He knew the sorts of people who lived there, what they were like, how they drive.

No one there drove like a maniac, that was for one.

He was actually returning back to his apartment from grocery shopping (he still needed sustenance if he was planning to win Romano back somehow) when he'd heard the sound at first; a low whirring, like a motor was running heavily in the distance. Then the screams; the people who preferred to walk on the streets or bike were scrambling to get out of the way. Lastly, the car came into view, a dark Buick streaking toward him on the road like a black bullet.

Even if Romano hadn't been riding in it, Antonio thought he might have looked at it anyway. Perhaps flicked it off; no one had a right to own the road like that. It was selfish and dangerous. Still, when he looked in the dashboard, he saw Romano at the wheel, gripping it like a neurotic and his first thought was _Romano knows how to drive_?

Then he saw the blonde man he'd seen a couple days before, sitting in the car next to him, smiling like a total airhead with the window down and as they whizzed past, he heard him say, "Man, this is nothing. If you've ever ridden with Mattie…!" and it was gone.

"Go into to the gas station and buy some chips or something, I'm starving!" …was what Alfred said, but Lovino had not also planned to be grabbed and pulled behind the building with a firm hand pressed over his eyes. Normally, he would have struggled, but he knew those hands. If Alfred had not been so busy exchanging pleasantries with the other gas station patrons, maybe he would have seen.

"Romano." The voice was soft and comforting, like it always had been. "Don't run away."

"Antonio."

He felt lips press against the back of his head. "I've missed you."

"Hmm?"

"I didn't get to explain myself. I have no excuses to what I've done; taking you and lying to you about it was wrong, and I know. Me, Francis, and Gilbert have had to live with that for years. But everything else was true; I was willing to marry you and live with whatever came with that; all the old baggage and your stubbornness and my being dense. I know falling for you isn't what a good criminal would have done, but I've been trying to be as unorthodox in that sense for a long while already."

"Bastard…"

"I meant everything. We've been with each other for so long you know when I'm lying. You mean so much to me, and…" Lovino felt Antonio squeeze him tighter. "I want you with me."

He didn't reply and he felt Antonio shift his attention. "That guy…with the car. Who is he? Some sort of rich husband your parents picked out for you to distract you?"

Lovino heard the jealousy in his voice and couldn't help smirking. Strangely, though, he didn't dig the nail in deeper, opting to protest like a girl defending her dignity. "He's just a friend. He's working to find you three."

"Oh. _That_ kind of person." Antonio spun him around, although he kept a hand over his eyes. "Please come back. I'll be waiting. At the normal place." Lovino heard a hum in the man's throat. "I think we all are waiting for you for some sort reason anyway." He leaned closer and whispered something in his native tongue.

The feeling that Lovino…no, this was Romano…had been carefully keeping behind sturdy floodgates finally broke free of its restrains and reared its head. Sudden emotion made he want to fling his arms around Antonio and leave Alfred and his goddamn family in the dust but he stopped himself; he was in far too deep to back out now. Antonio's lips ghosted his, then the hand was removed and he blinked in the sudden light; but the Spaniard was gone.

"I've fired Ludwig Weillschmidt."

Feliciano, who had woken and gone through the morning as chipper than a chipmunk on hash, felt as if his very insides had been plunged into a vat full of gelato in his least favorite flavor – walnut. It wasn't pleasant at all. "What did you say, Ledell?" It was his first time he used his mother's name voluntarily, but this situation called for it.

"You heard me. I fired your bodyguard."

"What…_why_?" She wasn't going to say that they had gotten too close and..?

"I have phone records that show he talked to his brother in the recent weeks since we've recovered Lovino. And the garage cam shows he left the house for two and a half hours a couple of days after the conversation took place. I didn't get an actual statement, but that's incriminating enough. Also, the garage cam shows a man lurking around that is clearly not Mr. Weillschmidt; which I only have to conclude as his brother. It is much too dangerous to keep a wild card in the house. I had to let him go."

"But…"

"He was discharged today, but he will be in and out to collect his belongings and you are permitted to say goodbye. However, he adequately persuaded me to think that you're old and capable enough to handle yourself without some sort of guard. You know not to follow strangers who offer you pasta anymore."

It was a feeble stab at humor, but Feliciano was not amused. "How…how could you do this without telling me?"

"Why do I need to tell you these things? I'm your mother; I hired the bodyguard and if he happens to be defective, then it's my responsibility to clean up my messes." Ledell gave him a pointed look. "And I _do_ know that you two were hardly keeping it professional anymore. I cannot have bodyguards having their feelings get in the way of doing the job right."

"Ludwig wouldn't do anything like that!" Feliciano threw the spoon he had used to illegally scoop cream into his mouth into the sink. "I can't believe you did this! So what? It doesn't prove anything! You've got nothing on the record that shows that he told his brother anything, _even _if he met with him at all! You've got no proof of anything!"

"I don't think benefit of the doubt works in this situation," Ledell said coolly.

Feliciano was seething. Glaring at his mother, he took a deep breath and calmed himself, like how he had seen Lovino do it. "You know, Lovino was right. You're right too. I _am_ old enough to take care of myself. If you're going to do things like this without consulting me, then I don't need to stay under your house. I'm already allowed by the law to live on my own, and it's about time I see what it's like outside these four walls. I don't want to be sheltered anymore, if it means that someone's going to be making decisions for me." Adrenaline was sure to wear off; turning, he stormed out of the kitchen, resisting the urge to run off shouting Ludwig's name to find him.

Ledell watched him go, still for a few moments, before slumping and leaning against the kitchen counter, taking a deep breath to settle herself and hoping ruefully that the tears streaming down her face were from allergies or stray pepper in the air.

Francis felt like a creeper. That feeling wasn't anything new; but it was the middle of the day and he was standing outside a university-affiliated apartment complex, loitering around by himself. Truthfully, he was waiting for Matthew, who had said he was coming down in a moment. He'd lived healthily the past few years with an absence of paranoia, but knowing that he'd confessed to Matthew, he was wondering if this was some sort of set up, especially when there was someone walking up to him.

The figure making his way toward him looked awfully like Matthew; but there was the presence of confident swagger and a cockiness that was quite unbecoming. Francis wondered if there was any family relation; but before he could consider anything, the man had spotted him and was walking toward him with a purpose.

"What are you doing here?"

Francis shrugged, glancing at the building in front of him. "Waiting for someone."

"I know you. I've seen your file. Francis Bonnefoy." The man surveyed him with interest and calculating eyes. "Are you waiting for Matthew?"

He paused, wondering if his answer could somehow incriminate him. But no, it wasn't against the law to wait for someone. "Yes, I am."

"He's my brother." Ah, the family resemblance. "I'm Alfred. Actually, we're step-brothers, but we look alike anyway." Alfred fell silent for a moment. "He's told me things about you."

Francis was a master at keeping calm; unlike Antonio, who would instantly look guilty or Gilbert, who would start blabbering. "Good things, I hope."

"Not much, actually." Alfred cocked his head. "Nothing bad. You can calm down. But you'd better not hurt him. In fact, you should just turn yourself in; save us all the pain." Alfred turned past his shoulder and Francis saw another blonde man coming toward them. If this wasn't the confrontation of the century, he didn't know what was.

"Alfred. I thought I told you not to come by here anymore." Matthew had also appeared, walking quickly toward them and taking Francis's arm. The gesture confirmed his suspicion; Francis fortified himself – there was obviously two sides in this battle, with him and Matthew on one side and Alfred and this thick-eyebrowed man on the other. "I've got nothing to tell you."

"I just wanted to check up on you, Mattie. I don't come by here often." Alfred shrugged, nudging the man next to him. "This is Arthur Kirkland. He's my partner."

"Charmed," Francis grinned, extending his hand. Arthur glared at him, although his anger seemed less toward him and more toward Alfred. Matthew tugged at him.

"Let's go." Matthew gave Alfred a pointed look. "There's nothing here left to do."

Note: Romano is a natural (crazy) driver. In my headcanon he inspires fear with his car. Return of the Creeper Spain! Feliciano asserts himself. Mattie stands up for himself. I'd say a lot of things happened this chapter.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

Background music: -

Lovino was struggling with himself. The side of him fighting to escape from this ridiculous situation was growing stronger by the hour while the placid side that wished to maintain the status quo and be happy with his family was starting to take a rather backstage roll. Feliciano was angry for some reason and sulking it up in his room so Lovino decided to take a walk around the whole goddamn mansion to see if he could find a place to adequately lay his options down and play eenie-meenie-minnie-moe if he had to.

He had just walked past a previously thought deserted room when he heard a soft sob from within, sounding rather _feminine_. Refusing to believe his ears, Lovino poked his head into the room and saw Ledell sitting and looking rather small in a chair. His mother was crying? He didn't think it was possible.

But he was a nice kid. He didn't just let people cry and walk away, even if he didn't know this woman well. He supposed he could give her credit for dealing with him and she was where he got his hot-tempered genes anyway. Gingerly stepping into the room and hoping that there were no landmines planted, he inched into view. "What's wrong?"

Ledell glared at him through tears and Lovino was about to scamper off when she shook her head, defeated. "It's none of your business! But I suppose it can't be helped…"

Romulus couldn't have gotten into a fight with her, could he? He didn't think his father had the balls to. And Feliciano was annoyingly happy all the time…but today he was pouting. Lovino eased himself into a chair across from her. "What happened?"

"Your brother told me today that he was planning on moving out."

"Was he serious?"

"I think so."

"Why would he say such a thing? I thought he'd rather die than separate from this place."

"I fired his bodyguard."

Lovino frowned. "Good call. I didn't like that Ludwig guy anyway."

Ledell smiled tensely at him. "I know, right?" They laughed lightly, Ledell reaching for a tissue to dab her eyes. "But everything's just falling apart. I can't keep you two here together. I wanted us all to be one close-knit family that stayed together through thick and thin. But you don't want to stay and now Feliciano wants to go. I've got no one left."

"That's not true." Lovino cocked his head. "What's-that-guy's-name-dad is still here."

Ledell scoffed. "Romulus? That man hardly counts."

"I think your husband counts plenty." Lovino watched her slowly compose herself back to the strict woman he had known her to be. "I can't imagine how you two could have found each other. You two are polar opposites."

Ledell tossed her head. "It was an accident, really. My brother Hercules was the prodigy son in the family although he slept all the time. He got in a fight with this boy who had a crush on me over if I could date him or not. Admittedly, I wasn't interested, but if someone was willing to fight with my stupid big brother over something so trivial that concerned me, I supposed I could give him a try. It was my mistake I fell for someone so worthless like Romulus."

Lovino frowned. "You can't take that for granted. If you've fallen in love with someone, that's important."

Ledell gave him a condescending look. "You wouldn't know, Lovino."

"I would! I've fallen in love with someone, you know!" There, he said it. Now it was in the open, it was truth. Ledell stared at him. "I thought it was dumb too. I thought I could get over it and fall in love with someone else. I'll take the risk of sounding like a stupid novel, but I can't. I can't, so I won't give him up." After a brief consideration, he plummeted to his next point. "I'm going to get married, mother."

Ledell's eyes widened. "No. No, you can't. I won't let you."

"I want to." He had decided. He'd had such a long time to figure out his alternate path but he couldn't find one in the wilderness. Just like he couldn't see him here, he couldn't get Antonio off his mind. It was dumb and girly on his part, but hell, he was a romantic at heart.

"You'll run off with a stupid boy? I had my hopes on you! I knew Feliciano wouldn't be suitable husband material, but what about my grandchildren! But regardless, I can't have you making the same mistakes I did. I married young, and look where that got me!"

Romano stood. "What do you mean? You're where you are; I don't see anything wrong with this!"

"I am your mother." Ledell stood as well, all tears and momentary signs of weakness gone. "I cannot let you dive into such a reckless decision like this. I knew I shouldn't have let you wander off. Lovino, you cannot get married."

"I can do whatever I goddamn want! And my name isn't Lovino; it's Romano." Romano glared at her, in the way he knew he looked like her. "Lovino changed a long time ago."

Ledell reached for him, but he quickly got out of the way. "You've got to let us go someday, Ledell. Feliciano knows too. Empty-nest isn't so bad. Maybe you'll remember why you married Romulus in the first place. God knows you take him for granted." Smirking and knowing he was pulling a Gilbert-below-the-belt move, he shot back, "Who knows? Maybe he'll leave you too!"

Ledell paled, before flushing with anger. "I didn't raise you to be that kind of child, Lovino."

"You didn't raise me at all. But I'll be nice. I'll remember my manners. I'll send you a wedding invitation."

Romano ran out before she could do anything, but Ledell reached for the phone for the butler. "Do not let Lovino out," she hissed, seeing red. "Keep him in his room until further notice."

_Hetalia!_

Arthur had poured himself a shot of gin and was planning on falling asleep in a drunken stupor on the couch of his hotel room when a knock at the door interrupted his plan and he answered to see Alfred standing in the doorway, looking suspicious.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here half-past midnight?"

"You're in a drinking mood. I could tell when you hailed that cab. I followed you back here to make sure you didn't streak like last time."

Arthur made to close the door on him when Alfred stuck his food in the doorway and forced himself in the room. He spotted the gin bottle and untouched shot glass and gave Arthur a knowing look.

"If you came here to lecture someone older than you about the dangers of drinking, I may as well throw you out on your bloody arse. Don't even start." Arthur waved him off and downed the shot before Alfred could protest.

"I don't care if you become an alcoholic. It's not what I came here to say. It's about you and me." Mattie couldn't help him out and he was coming here blind. His brother was refusing to talk to him, and anyway, heroes didn't take advice from ones fraternizing with the enemy. He had some sort of ability; maybe he could use it to his advantage.

"I've got nothing to say to you." Arthur was starting on the bottle itself. He had to act fast.

"I don't understand why you're still mad at me. I thought about it and wrote everything down chronologically and I figured that you started this whole mess back when I first spoke to the Vargas kid. So obviously it's got something to do with him. Then I went through the list of arguments that you've been using and it's revolving around the same claim that I've been somehow 'flirting' with Lovino." Air quotes were necessary but they seemed to get Arthur even angrier. "That's what I could collect. What I don't get is why you're so upset about it. It's not getting in the way of anything. I'm not playing back."

"You know, you're actually smarter than I give you credit for, but sometimes you can just be so stupid. If you can't figure it out, then I guess I don't need to bother explaining it."

"How can I know what you're thinking if you don't tell me! I can't read minds!"

Arthur was splashing around the gin now, talking with his hands even when the bottle was still in them. "You're so worthless, you know! I don't know why I put up with you. It's not like I like you or anything! I can't stand the way you think you're great and you're always right when you're not! But I put up with you anyway. It's a miracle."

Alfred glared at him. It was no use arguing with a drunk. "If that's what you think, then why don't you call your Majesty's Secret Service and replace me with someone you can actually stand?"

Arthur stared at him, before wobbling toward the phone. "I think I'll do just that."

He had only turned for a second, but Alfred had crossed the room in less than a second, nearly tackling him over but settling for covering his eyes and making him drop the bottle, which fell and shattered at their feet, sending alcohol flooding into the carpet. "Don't. That's not what I meant."

"Let me go, you bastard-!"

"I don't know what you're so angry about," Alfred murmured, dropping his voice so Arthur had to be silent to hear him. "But if you're somehow worried that I'll be distracted that the Vargas kid likes me, you should just forget about it. I _am_ distracted, but it's not for him, it's…"

Arthur somehow managed to pull himself away from Alfred but not for long as he crashed his lips into his partner's and the two of them fell onto the couch. Alfred was just still trying to figure out how words led to this, but he wasn't complaining as he felt Arthur fall on him. He never thought age could be a good thing, but he was willing to cede the fact that Arthur was a damn good kisser.

"Well," Alfred managed as they broke away for a breath, his mouth tasting of gin and Arthur's face a pleasant pink, "that wasn't what I was aiming for, but I guess…"

"Oh, shut up," Arthur growled, kissing him again and wiping his mind blank.

_Hetalia!_

Romulus was getting scared. He knew Ledell had a mean PMS, but it seemed the whole house was determined to go in that direction. Ledell was snapping more often than usual, Feliciano was actually having shouting matches with her, and Lovino was now locked in his room again. The thought of hiding away for a moment crossed his mind, but whenever Ledell caught him near the door, she pulled him away into the house as if her life depended on it.

He would have to settle with laying low. He hid in the shadows of the stairs as Ledell and Feliciano had an argument over whether or not the younger twin could help Ludwig pack his things (Ludwig had spotted him in the shadows and was shooting him envious looks). He hid in the room next door when he heard Ledell and Lovino having a row of their own about something (he heard the word 'marriage' a couple of times and wondered where that was going). By the end of the day, Romulus thought he might nip the problem in the bud and ask Ledell what was wrong.

She was sitting in front of the mirror in their room, checking her hair before bed when Romulus stood behind her. He noticed her glance at him in the mirror before turning her attentions back at herself. "What's wrong, darling?" He put his hands on her shoulders, and usually she would have shook them off but he was surprised that she didn't.

"Nothing."

"You're having arguments with Feliciano. It's clearly not 'nothing'. No one is telling me anything. I feel very confused."

"Your younger son wants to leave the house to run off with Ludwig and Lovino is insisting his name is Romano again and wants to run off with one of his kidnappers. Satisfied?"

"Actually, I'm more so confused."

"You were always stupid." This bounced off Romulus, who was watching Ledell scowl in the mirror. "The bottom line is that your sons have wrapped them up in delusions of grandeur and romance and I've got to shake them out of it."

"Love is never a bad thing, Ledell."

Ledell's face darkened, but Romulus thought he saw a bit of hesitance as well. "If I can't stop them and they go," she said, her voice slow, "will you go as well?"

"Of course not. I'm your husband. I wouldn't leave you."

She was silent, staring at the two of them. "Thank you," she mumbled, before shaking him off and gliding toward the bed. "Good night, Romulus."

_Hetalia!_

If he lost it, he would be so upset he might actually have to find someone to take it out on…fingers searching, Romano stared into the dresser, pulling out various articles of clothing before he spotted the flash of gold and leapt on it. Pulling it out, Romano forced back a cheer and carefully examined the band. He didn't want to think how many nights Antonio had to labor through to get this (and he _definitely_ didn't want to think about how he'd been so brutal in rejecting him). It was just priceless.

Antonio had said that the first thing he would do was to find him and propose. Well, Romano had all the time to think about it. So now, he had to map out his goals too.

He had to escape from this place; highly unlikely, since the door was constantly locked and Ledell had taken precautions to make escape through the window literally impossible by pruning the trees and taking away any sort of foothold. Falling down two stories would definitely break some of his bones and alert someone.

But regardless (he'd work out those fine details some other time), he would find Antonio in the city and accept the proposal. Given that Antonio wasn't so upset he would reject him back…or was no longer interested…or had even left maybe…? No, he'd just been grabbed by that very man a few days ago. And he was still interested. It was _Antonio_ for goodness sake.

He'd have to apologize. For the horrible way he reacted. But damn, it was coming back, that ridiculous giddy feeling because he was _engaged_ of all things! Whatever if Antonio didn't know yet! Romano slipped the ring on his hand, smiling in the company of privacy.

"You told me to wait, but _you'd_ better wait now, bastard."

_To be continued_

Note: Insert dramatic soap opera here. Sorry guys, but this was necessary. BY THE WAY I hope the new 'scene breaks' were adequate. has totally messed with the formats of all my stories. You won't catch me doing those cutesy stupid 'zero zero zero!' kind of crap. My dashes were my children and has taken them away. I have a right to get angry. And this blatant non-originality scene break is my rebellion against the man. I'm sort of upset about this now. On the bright side, we have actual USUK when all UST breaks loose!


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

Background music: -

The events of the next day played out like a Shakespearian play.

Romano was up early, trying to find some sort of object to pick the lock. Obviously, as irony would have it, when he'd finally fished out a pin out of the back of the closet, he discovered the door didn't have a lock on his side. How on earth would anyone be able to leave the room? It was dangerous. But it was Ledell he was dealing; she probably made rooms like that anyway.

He surveyed his chances via the window. No matter how he looked at it, escaping the day was hazardous. Not only would everyone see him falling through the air, but he would be obviously hobbling away. The city was a good mileage off and he needed a car to truly gain some distance. He had no access to a phone to call a cab and the keys to the cars were locked in a place he didn't know. Even if he managed to leave the house, he wouldn't be able to go far.

In another part of the house, Feliciano was sitting alone in his room. He'd told his mother he was leaving; but actually leaving was another story. After the threat, he'd been hesitant to follow it up – he'd never actually left the house like that before. And suddenly, things weren't so easy anymore. Where would he stay? What would he do?

He'd mentioned this briefly to Ludwig as they carried the fired bodyguard's belongings to a car and just as the blonde man set the box in his arms into the trunk, he straightened up and looked at Feliciano. "You could stay with me, if you'd like. I found a place in the city. It's not much, but it's a bit big for…one person."

Feliciano nearly dropped the box of books. "You'd want me to move in with you?" he asked breathlessly.

"If…if it's something you'd want."

Feliciano threw the books into the car and had flung his arms around Ludwig, but thinking back, this was a big step. Walking away from his parents and going to someone else…it was treading into unstable territory. Say Ludwig didn't want to live with him anymore? Say their relationship ended (God forbid! God forbid!)? It was a big chance. It was like stepping off the edge of the world.

In another part of town, Antonio had just gotten back from a lengthy shift (he wondered why on earth he worked at a restaurant that decided to go twenty-four hours but he couldn't turn back) and collapsed into bed. He heard Gilbert shuffle somewhere inside the apartment, but he was too tired to care.

"Gil? I'm seriously going to drop to pieces if I don't get any sleep. Don't make a fuss."

"Aye, Toni. I'm probably going to muck on over to Francis's place anyway."

"Hmm?" Antonio murmured sleepily. "Francis said he was going to be over at Ma-Ma-Matthew's place." Stifling another enormous yawn, the Spaniard was drifting off already. "Don't bother."

"Fine, but all you've got here is a lousy television and my imagination."

"Just keep it down."

[=]

"Mattie, I know I haven't talked to you in days, but we've finally done it!"

Matthew blinked. It was seven o' five on a morning where he didn't have morning classes. Francis was dozing next to him. The room was dark and warm and he wanted to drift back off. But his phone had gone off and it was Alfred and he figured if his brother called him, it had to be a big deal. Now he was listening to his espresso doused brother ramble about something he didn't want to hear about in the morning.

"Done what?" he asked sleepily, marveling at how messy his room had gotten. Francis spending the night usually meant a crazy room. He would leave what that meant to anyone's imagination.

"It, Mattie! _It_!"

"Don't be childish, Alfred. What? Sex?"

"Yeah!"

"Whoa." If he hadn't performed the same act that very last night, he might have been surprised. "With Arthur?" he confirmed.

"No, Mattie, with some whore off the street, _yes_!" With Alfred, one couldn't be sure. "He's in the shower and he wouldn't want me to brag about it, but it's happened! Aren't I awesome?"

"The sexual tension was bound to break sometime," Matthew yawned.

"What? Is this too boring for you?"

"Alfred, it's seven-ten. I'm tired as hell."

"What were you doing last night?"

"Mm, same things as you." Matthew glanced back where Francis was still sleeping. Yup, same things.

"_Ehh?_ Mattie, how could you!"

"If that's all you called about, then good bye, Alfred." He was about to hang up when Alfred scrambled back.

"Wait, wait, Mattie. What should I do now? Basically Arthur's in a good mood now. What should I do?"

"I don't know. Go solve your case." Matthew was too tired to think straight. "Go…I don't know…go interrogate the kid. Christ, don't you get tired?"

"Case?" Then, "Oh, yeah! The case! We'll hop on that, Mattie. Thanks for all your help! Good night!" Then a click and Matthew sighed happily as he turned off his phone and settled back into the blankets.

[=]

Ledell grimaced when she heard the car pull up in the front. She had wanted one day to herself to think and the blonde wonders had decided to call. Wrapping herself up in her most dignified state, she breezed down to answer the door.

"Hey! It's been a long time. Look, we wanted to have a word with you."

Ledell painted on her no-nonsense expression. "I have nothing to say to the two of you. I have paid for your services and so far, they have brought nothing to fruition. Now I bid you good day." She was about to close the door on them when Alfred shot his foot out and stopped the front doors from closing.

"On the contrary, ma'am," Arthur spoke up. "We have a couple things to ask you about. In regards to the case, of course."

"What could it possibly be? Please make it brief." Ledell's face twisted into an expression of exasperation. Alfred kept his foot in the door, nodding at Arthur.

"Perhaps you can invite us in and we can talk in peace."

Ledell grumbled to herself as she flung the doors open and let the two in. Winking, Alfred started down the foyer as if he had lived there his whole life. "Like you said, broad, nothing's changed in the few weeks we've been here. Which leads me to believe this case is as good as solved."

"What do you mean?" She wasn't going to put effort in hiding the anger in her voice.

"We have our leads, which are as good as they're going to get. However, your son isn't cooperating. This gives us a bit of a predicament." Alfred waved his hands around as he spoke. "Your son has not been harmed in any way. In other words, besides some mental anguish, there is really no proof that he was kidnapped. Since he isn't willing to give us an okay on our suspects, even if we pulled them in, we technically wouldn't have a case. They've laid low for so long so they've basically painted their alibis clean. The only evidence we really have is your testimony and your son's testimony, and since Lovino hasn't been speaking to us about it, we have to assume he won't speak up to condemn them."

"Which, isn't much in court," Arthur finished, matching Ledell's brisk pace. "They won't speak, your son won't speak; it's you against cold hard facts. The three suspects have done nothing to suggest they kidnapped your son; they could plea that they had only been runaways and had no contact with Lovino at all. Likewise, if Lovino isn't going to say anything against them, as he should have by now, he probably is going to support their claims."

"There must be some other way," Ledell sputtered.

"It's a lost case," Alfred shrugged as they reached the tea room. "I would let it go, if I were you. Your son is back, he is fine, there have been no threats against you. I consider this a happy ending already." He collapsed on the couch. "What is it you're actually looking for?"

"I want to see those kidnappers put to justice."

"If they let him out alone so that you could find him again, I don't think you have anything to worry about. They don't seem like psychopaths and if your son isn't willing to identify them, I'm willing to bet he would come to their defense in court, if it came to that."

"Unless you have gotten somewhere?" Arthur asked.

"Yes!" Ledell shot out of her chair. "Lovino told me that he is interested in marrying someone. Now I have reason to believe that this someone is related to the kidnapping and…"

"Got any proof outside your suspicions?"

Ledell gaped. Alfred turned to Arthur, who gave him a look. "Listen, Mrs. Vargas," Alfred said, sounding oddly more professional than before. "If you're hoping that somehow turning these three in will be your way in making up for lost time, I hardly think this is the way to go about it. We do not think, by the way Lovino is acting, that he was held against his will. He just never took the time to come find you or look for some other way out of the situation he was in. And we'd know; Arthur was a psychology major. Pretty damn good one. We analyzed it. He doesn't seem emotionally scarred and he'd actually quite likeable, if he wasn't so upset all the time."

"What do you know…"

"We don't know anything. It's just our observations as outsiders." Arthur shrugged. "I think this would be a good place to stop."

"Hey, instead of brooding on the past, why don't you just try and make up for it now! Let the kid get married. You can't keep him here forever." Alfred grinned. "And anyway, even if you tried, he'd probably get out of here somehow."

[=]

The detectives had come. He hoped he wouldn't have to talk to them. Or maybe this was a gift from God; he could make a run for it. Somehow. The car was right there. Maybe he could somehow jump start it (with no experience, it was a lost cause but he wouldn't think that way…!). Jumping out of the window seemed to defeat the purpose though…

The lock on the door clicked and Feliciano poked his head in. "Hey, Lovino!"

"What are you doing?"

Feliciano looked a bit devious. "What does it look like I'm doing?" He held up the keys to the door. "Ledell's distracted and I found these. Just being curious, that's all."

Romano gave his brother a pointed look. "I hardly think it's time to act innocent, you brat."

"Hey." Feliciano opened the door and stood aside. "Mom's not going to let you out, but she's not here, is she? And I didn't see anything. I didn't open any doors. And I'm certainly not going to tell you that the keys to the car are still in it." He grinned. "I'm a nice kid, Lovino. I'm not as stupid as I look."

Romano surveyed his brother, before smirking. "Definitely less than I give you credit for."

"I'm on your side, brother! Go follow your heart!" Feliciano flung his arms around Romano as he went to the door. "Stay in touch! Don't pull another twelve year absence! I wanna find out what happens!" He held Romano out an arm's distance. "Don't worry about Ledell. I'll take care of it."

"I never thought I was going to say this, but you're alright."

"I always am. Now go! I don't think her patience with those two is going to hold out too long!" Pushing Romano out into the hallway, he watched as his brother ran off. What exactly had seized him was some sort of strange rebellion. It was unlike him. But he supposed, if he was really going to be moving out, things had to change sooner or later.

"Did what I just saw really just happen?"

"Ludwig!" Turning, Feliciano tackled the blonde, sending them wobbling further down the corridor. "What did you just see?"

"I saw you letting your brother out. Probably against your mother's wishes."

"Then you saw right." Smiling, Feliciano shamelessly pressed a kiss against Ludwig's lips. "I like it like this. I've never done anything like this before. I'm sort of nervous, actually." Feliciano bit his lip. "There are a lot of things to worry about."

Ludwig was flushed, as he always was whenever Feliciano performed any sort of display of affection, but he wrapped his arms around the younger twin. "If you think you're doing the right thing, there should be nothing to worry about."

"Am I…? Yup~! It's going to be okay!"

[=]

Note: If you can suspend your disbelief and if life was a movie, this COULD happen. Pretend that I haven't succumbed to predictability. Scream SELL OUT at me. God knows. I'm gonna have to pull an Arctic Monkeys. The next chapter is the end. I think you basically know what's going to happen. I'm so pathetic.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

Background music: -

So he'd nearly driven into a ditch. No big. But it was as Feliciano said; the keys were still dangling from the ignition (either Alfred had his back, or he was a stupid, stupid man) – all he had to do was start the car, put it in drive, and hurry off before anyone could catch him.

But he'd finally made it into town. So what if he'd only driven once before. He was pretty good at this. He could get used to this. He didn't know that so many people wandered into the street though; he figured that he still had some sort of luck since he didn't hit anyone. _Yet_ (and it was going to stay that way!).

He'd never driven to Antonio's flat before, so he had to keep his eyes out for familiar landmarks. Romano definitely didn't want to get lost before he had a chance to say what he had to say. But things were going some kind of right. He didn't think Lady Luck was still friends with him, but she was a tough old bitch.

[=]

The car starting did not go unnoticed.

"That sounded like our car," Alfred said, frowning as the sound of a car zooming off filled the room. Arthur glanced at him, before standing up and walking to the front. Ledell followed, looking slightly troubled.

Indeed, the car was gone. Alfred stared, before whistling appreciatively. "I like this neighborhood!" he exclaimed. Arthur stared at the empty place where their car had been before turning to Ledell.

"Do you know who took it?"

Ledell stared at them, before rushing back in the house. "Romulus!" Because he was the only one in the house at the time who could drive. "Romulus, get your ass over here!"

"You called?" His head, along with his lopsided curls, poked out from the library.

"Feliciano!"

"Yup!" Feliciano walked into view, holding a box of his stuff. "What's up, Ledell?"

"Where's Lovino?"

"I don't know!" Smiling, he set the box in his arms on the ground before tossing the ring of keys to his mother. "You might want this back, though."

Recognition crossed her features, even before she caught the chunk of metal. "You should be glad you're moving out, Feliciano. Or you would be in so much pain." Feliciano merely grinned back, looking very unlike himself.

"I just think he'll be happier this way, mom." He beamed as Ludwig walked up to him, holding the rest of his stuff. "I'm leaving some stuff here, okay! I'll be back periodically! And anyway, I've got to go to the wedding, don't I?" Smiling something sly, he led Ludwig to the back of the house, where the moving car was waiting for them.

Ledell watched as her other son left before turning to Romulus. "They get this from you, you know that?" she shouted before throwing the keys over her head and storming off to the kitchen to get a drink.

[=]

Of all the days to lock the apartment door, it was today. Romano did know how many times he had told Antonio to look the door, lest someone more unsavory than Gilbert wandered inside. Knocking, he wondered how exactly he was going to explain himself to Antonio. Well, the damned bastard better be grateful.

He was about to rush into the apology when the door opened, but he found himself faced with a familiar albino. "Gilbert?"

"Kid!" Romano found himself swept up in Gilbert's arms and pulled into the apartment. "If you could come find us, that would have made it loads better! What're you playin' at?"

"Let me go!" Pushing Gilbert away, Romano looked around. "Where's Antonio?"

"What did you come to talk to him about?" Romano looked at him incredulously before flipping him the bird, revealing the gold band around his finger.

"You're agreeing?" Romano wondered where Gilbert had been. He was the first person he told his feelings about Antonio to, and he was doubting that he was going to marry him? He supposed it was logical; but he'd come to the apartment. What else was he there for?

Gilbert's face was all kinds of emotion. Romano never remembered the German ever looking anything other than mischievous. "What's…wrong?" he asked.

"It's just…" Now Gilbert looked awkward, which was _extremely_ uncommon. "You never…considered anyone else?"

Romano cocked his head. "Never. It was always Antonio." He paused, suddenly finding some strange urge to apologize. "Sorry."

"Never mind! It's so awesome to be a bachelor!" Gilbert's grin came back, although noticeably milder, before turning back and flopping back down on the couch. "He's in his room, trying to sleep himself to death."

"Thanks." Romano was thinking he was piecing things together. His hand rested on the doorknob. "For everything, Gilbert."

"Just go in there."

Antonio was always a strange sleeper. Always sprawling himself all over the place. Romano closed the door, smiling to himself as he watched Antonio doze with his limbs all over the place. The room was exactly how he'd left it; tomato seeds he'd meant to plant still sitting in their packet on the desk. Clothes all over the place. His stuff still waiting for him untouched. Even the scent was the same; the smell that reminded him of Antonio. Taking a deep breath, Romano walked over and climbed onto the bed. Antonio was always less stupid when he was asleep. He poked the older man up.

"Gilbert, I told you I'm tired…"

"If that's how you're going to treat me, I guess I'll leave."

Antonio's eyes flew open, all sleep suddenly flung off. Romano stuck his tongue out at him before scooting closer. "What's wrong, Antonio? Cat got your tongue?"

The Spaniard seemed too dazed beyond help. "If this is a dream," he finally managed, "then it's a damn good one."

"See if this is real." And Romano kissed him, kissed him without abandon because after all, he hadn't kissed him in weeks and if they were really going to get married, it was normal. Any thought that it might still be a dream was lost as well as Antonio ran his fingers through Romano's hair, as if he was making sure that this was a real, physical person, not some ethereal mirage.

"You came back," he murmured, holding Romano close.

"I had to." Romano held up his hand, letting the ring register in Antonio's mind. "Because I accept."

"I never actually asked," Antonio said breathlessly, gaping at the ring.

"Fine. I won't marry you then."

"No, no, no~…" He chuckled as he buried his head in Romano's hair. "That's not what I meant~"

"But for all this trouble, I expect you to make sure the wedding is perfect or the honeymoon will be full of divorce papers."

"You wouldn't do that…"

[=]

The reception was nice. Romulus had started bawling walking Romano down the aisle and hadn't stopped since. Ledell, looking a tad miffed, had gone to congratulate Antonio, but by the looks of it, she was slightly impressed by him. She had not mentioned any sort of arrest, but by the lack of police, Romano figured that fear was laid to rest.

"Brother." Feliciano was smiling like a lunatic, but Romano didn't mind; his brother didn't look like a mess so he figured Ludwig was doing something right. He'd never actually seen Feliciano in cuff links. Amusing. "That was a beautiful ceremony. So that's Antonio?" They turned to where Ledell was lecturing Antonio in how to properly live with a Vargas, to which Antonio didn't look at all overwhelmed; in fact, he was taking notes. "He seems nice."

"Our mother's strangely okay about this."

"Dad had a talk with her about it." Romulus was still crying his eyes out, being consoled by a friend (who Romano found out with horror was Ludwig and Gilbert's grandfather, Christ!). Hercules (whom Romano would never call uncle) was looking around aimlessly with his guest next to him, a petite Asian young man who seemed to live on the same wavelength as him. "He still has that sort of influence over her. She loves him, you know."

"Hmm." Feliciano patted him on the shoulder and wished him well again before dancing off to Ludwig, who seemed to be (reluctantly) catching up with Gilbert, who was raving about something else again. Alfred spotted him alone and rushed up to him.

"Hey! I was a bit surprised we were invited." He gestured back to Arthur, who seemed to be having an argument with Francis (who was going out with Alfred's brother? Romano wondered how all their lives had somehow gotten so intertwined. It was disgusting). "But that's irrelevant. It was a great wedding. By the way…just off the record…between you and me…you and Antonio…" Alfred turned to the man in question, finishing up his interview with Ledell. "Has this been going on for years, if you know what I mean?"

Romano smirked. "I don't know. You're the detective. Maybe you should figure it out."

"Damn right I will. But nevertheless, I'm glad this whole thing's over." Flashing a charming smile, Alfred pushed through the crowd to get to Antonio (Romano sympathized with his husband, but it was amusing to watch him attract so much attention).

Francis was now leading Alfred's brother (he was never good with names) away onto the dance floor. Romano was a bit distracted with Arthur's eyebrows (he'd never actually paid them much attention, but they were the biggest distraction ever) when someone poked him in the arm. He was a bit surprised to see her, but he figured if she was Antonio's friend, it was alright. "Charlotte…was it?"

"Charlie!" She tossed her hair. "But I see you didn't need me to talk you out of cold feet?" Before he could ask her what she meant, she pulled Ned over. "Now listen. If you want to have a long-lasting wedding like Ned and me, you've got a few rules to remember. First of all, Antonio is stupid. He will not know what you mean if you hint at it. So be honest and frank. Second, _you_ will always win every argument. I know you will, because he will give in. Just make the argument worth it; don't bicker about stupid things. Life isn't long enough for that."

"Sex is good too," Ned interjected, to which Charlie beat him over the head with her purse.

"But it's alright. It's definitely necessary," she whispered when Ned wandered off to get them drinks. "Don't take it from me. But call your big sister Charlie if you need help. Antonio has my number. Remember! I'm banking on you! It's about time my friend settles down." Patting Romano affectionately on the cheek, she waltzed away toward her husband.

What sort of happy ending was this? Like a movie, Romano figured. Like the implausible Tayla Swift song playing now (to whoever requested it, he would slaughter). But he wasn't going to argue about it. Not when everything seemed in order, his mother seemed to be the husband Nazi now, and Antonio was making his way toward him. Things were finally okay.

To think, it all started with a robbery.

Anything was possible.

Owari

[=]

Note: I'm sorry for all those expecting a super long chapter. I think once you get to this part, it should just click, you know? And if you wanted a mushy chapter, I'd suggest Much Ado about Everything. STWW beat me to the wedding punch! Grr! I'm so glad this is over already. It kept beating me up, it was so cliché and arg. Thanks for sticking around, though, and all your readership was appreciated! I hope we meet elsewhere!


	17. Sequel

**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

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[=]

Notice: A sequel (of sorts) has been posted! I am not sure if you all were aware...so if you were wondering what the dickens happened to everyone the years following the marriage, please check out Cradlerobber. There will be a re-emergence of lovely Charlie and Ned, along with Antonio and Roma's...child?

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Thanks for all your traffic and love, darlings!


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